I looked up on a map where Guinness was brewed, and it came up in Belfast, not Dublin. Belfast looked tiny, just a few neighborhoods with a park in the middle, the brewery down at one end. Then I was there, on a tour. Gathered at tables outside at the end of it I guess. A homeless man started harassing a group of black guys—he too was black. He sprayed gold paint in the face of one man. I wondered if anyone would call the police, an ambulance—and finally one came. I assisted in getting the injured person on a stretcher, though he now was a white man dressed in women’s clothes.