Vincent: When Irish Eyes are Smiling

The lobby of Pinewood's main campus had Vincent confused
Instead of a quasi-sterile, brightly lit room with chrome-framed vinyl seating
And a doe-eyed receptionist who knew how to do the smile/head-tilt trick
He felt he was in the lobby of a roadside hotel
There were two battered couches
Of which one was occupied by a seemingly ancient labrador retriever
Who acknowledged Vincent's presence with a single eye opening
And then closing again
The "receptionist" was a thin adolescent male with red hair
And an unseemly mass of freckles that left only small hints of pale skin
Visible on his face and hands
Vincent approached Freckle-boy
Who was  standing behind a wooden lectern
"Am I in the right place?" asked Vincent
Instead of answering the question
Freckle-boy yelled over to the dog, "Raymond!"
Raymond the labrador lifted his head and turned his whitened muzzle toward Vincent
Freckle-boy continued, "Raymond, demonstrate to Vinnie here that he's in the right place"
Vincent told the boy, "I prefer Vincent. Please don't call me Vinnie."
Raymond slowly and arthritically got off the couch and approached Vincent
Stopping about three feet in front of him and stated in clear, regional brogue
"You're Vinnie from now on. And you are definitely in the right place"
Freckle-boy laughed and gave Vinnie's shoulder a welcoming slap
And had Vinnie been dreaming he would have hoped the slap would awaken him
But here he was
Wide awake in a beat-up room with Freckle-boy and a talking dog