Oh Shirt of The Irish, Bring Us the Men

Every time you move into a new apartment, no matter if it is with the same people or newer better ones, you find out some interesting quirks about the place. Usually it is a particularly creaky spot on the floor, or a leaky faucet, or cellphone dead spots. Occasionally, though, there are quirks that bend the time/space continuum, or border on the supernatural. 

We have found one such quirk.

My roommate Katrina has this shirt that she likes to wear when no social outing is imminent. But we have discovered that every time she dons her support of the Irish, our apartment gets visited by single members of the opposite sex.

The first time it happened, we were visited by two groups of boys. The first group had an official agenda, the second group... not so much. The next night it happened again. The third night Katrina put on the shirt, thought better of it and changed. But it had been pulled out and we got a visitor. Even just writing about the shirt was enough to bring a ring to our doorbell. 

We are a little confused why it is this particular shirt that brings the men. Naturally a lounge shirt must be baggy and unflattering, so one would hope not to be caught in it. But for some reason the mystic powers of the Universe will it otherwise. Though, they seem to make up for it. Last night our visitors were half-naked and well-proportioned...mmmm. Perhaps we'll make the shirt our standard and raise it on a pole outside when we're looking particularly saucy.