“Do you have a name I asked?" I asked.
"Yes." He stared back at me, blinking.
"What is it?"
"Clover." He looked away and typed something into the computer. His mouth kept twitching, like he was trying to hold in laughter.
"Seriously?"
He pushed his sleeve up, giving me a view of a blue clover tattooed on his forearm. "I'm half Irish."
And half shithead.”