Weekend afternoons were always good in Donleavy’s. While every other pub in the country echoed to the shouts and roars of partisan sports fanatics exhorting Dublin footballers or Mourinho’s Muppets or Johnny Sexton on to even greater efforts – Donleavy’s would be an oasis of peace. ‘TV in a pub – never – wouldn’t think of it’ was the reply Donleavy had left in the ear of some poor young punter when questioned on the matter. ‘Pubs are for drinking and talking – go home to your sitting room or go to the flicks if ya want to bore yourself senseless in front of a screen was the second flea inserted in the ear of the departing youth whose finger was strangely raised towards the ceiling as he exited.
JP, Rasher and Mono were enjoying the drinking part of Donleavy’s recipe – but strangely there was little conversation pacing between them. That is – if you ignore loud belches and sneaky farts. As the three men stared across the bar counter and JP intermittently fiddled with his pipe the silence became a little too deafening for Rasher.
“All go, wha’?”
”Milling.”
“Beat out.”
That did for awhile and after pints were nearly drained JP gave the usual signal across the bar to Donleavy for more reinforcements. Rasher stared at the remaining cream in the almost empty glass for a while before this ceased to rivet his attention.
“Anything new JP?”
“I think there’s going to be another World War, Rasher. In fact I’m sure of it. And it’s going to be sooner rather than later. Mark my words, remember where ya heard it first.”
“Jaysus, JP”, Rasher and Mono were now bolt upright on their stools. “Was there something on the news. Is it ‘The Donald Duck? Or ‘The Sheikh Rattle and Roll’? Or is it ‘Didn’t go to Specsavers in North Korea? The Africans? No, the Israelis. The Injuns. Who is it JP? Who’s throwing shapes”
“I think it’s going to start somewhere like Argos.”
Rasher looked at Mono. Mono looked at Rasher. The two looked at JP with mouths wide open. When the mouths next moved the sound came in stereo.
“Argos!”
“Yeah, maybe Argos.”
“The shop?”
“The same.”
The two recipients of this scoop were momentarily struck dumb. In such situations the only thing to do was to take refuge in stout drinking so each in turn halved the volume of their glass with suitable glugging sounds.
“Ya’ve come up with some quare ones JP, but this beats Banagher into a mushy pulp. Wha’’s the story, Rory? Is Argos stockpiling warheads under the disguise of deep fat fryers. Maybe they’re recycling plutonium thru their bicycle pumps. Ya’ve lost the plot this time for sure JP. It’s time for the white coats and the wrap around sleeves. Give us an insight into that crazy mind of yours that can get us from Argos direct to WW3”
JP took a few rapid pulls of the pipe and disappeared momentarily into wrap around clouds. He then finished off the half pint that nestled in front of him and slapped the empty glass down on the counter with a self-satisfied sigh.
“Let me tell ya a little story.”
A groan was issued on either side of him.
“Naw it’ll be quite short.”
Rasher arched his eyebrows and stared back at him. No words were needed.
“It will be short. I promise. I was in the shopping center the other day with the dragon.”
Mono and Rasher spotted a mortaller immediately and went for the jugular.
“Ya were shopping with the dragon?”
“Ah shush will ye and let me get going. I drove her there. Right. Drove her there. That’s all.”
There was an audible sigh of relief.
“Well I was sitting in the car listening to the radio and I got bored. So, I went over to Argos to get a brochure. No sin in that. The wan there was off hand with me. ‘Wont have any brochures until January’. Just like that. No ‘sorry’. No nothing. Made me feel like I was intruding on her time. I was going to throw a few fecks into her but she probably would have whinged to her pals after I went out that serving the public was a thankless task. Who’s supposed to be providing the service, I ask ye, who?”
They both nodded like they’d seen it all before. It didn’t need an answer. For a fleeting few minutes empathy reigned within the camp. But then Mono shot an arrow out over the wagons.
“Jaysus, JP, that’s all very well and we’re awful sorry ya were bored shitless in the shopping center car park but wha’ the bejaysus has this all to do with another Worlder?”
JP beckoned for more drink. It was Rasher’s round and he’d screwed up. JP shot him a vicious look and the return look of mortification said it all. There had been a serious lapse in the purchasing program and the cardinal error of being pint-less had occurred. Lesser men had panicked in these situations. JP took it in his stride. Rasher knew the error of his ways and that was all that was important.It wasn’t close to closing time so no harm had been done. Still these lapses could lead on to more serious omissions and were best avoided. If nothing else it had put him right off his stride. Maybe it was the impending WW3 that was to blame. JP tried to find away to forgive his friend.
“Where was I?. Yeah. Argos. Well ya can see how it could happen can’t ya?”
Mono looked at Rasher. Rasher looked at Mono. Shoulders were raised. Eyes looked down and darted left to right.
“If I wasn’t the type of person I am I could have let the wan have it. Give her the verbals or even a bit of a slap. Wha’ happens next? Her better half gives me a doing. Well he’d need to catch me on a bad day. I throw a firebomb into the shopping center Argos while his dragon is working. The Brits take it personal and tell the Paddy’s to protect their stores better. The Paddy’s take a huff and get their ‘800 years of oppression’ back up and tell the Brits to go and shove it up their geansaí. The bulldog starts growling and says they’ll have to reconsider the security of Brit enterprises in Eire – as the shaggers call it when they get snotty. The chuckies see this as a good game and leave a car bomb outside Sellafield on the ninth of November so we can have our own proper European 9/11.”
“The chuckies?”
“Yeah, ya know. Tiocfaidh ár lá”
“Oh right.”
“’The Donald Duck’ and whoever his national security adviser is on that particular day waddle into town then and add Ireland to the list of world terrorist threats. ‘Put On Putin’ in Russia and ‘Joe Hopping’ in China and ‘The Korean Specsaver’ see this as a gap in the market and start attacking Donald Duck Embassies around the world. And q.e.d. we’ve got WW3. It’s not hard to imagine is it?”
“And all because some old wan in Argos wouldn’t give ya a catalogue.”
“Ya don’t get the point Rasher – it’s the way the cow wouldn’t give me a catalogue.”
“JP, in all fairness, do ya not think that this whole thing is a bit far fetched, even for you.”
“Not at all. Look at Limerick.”
Rasher looked at Mono. Mono looked at Rasher. A look passed.
“Jaysus, JP you’re right.”
Donleavy called time. Ladies and Gents now please/no homes to go to/the guards are at the door/time please/even ugly bastards need beauty sleep/think of the children/JP-feck off and philosophize elsewhere/think of ye’re wifes/OK don’t think of ye’re wifes – just go. It was the end of innocence. It would not be the drink induced sleep of the pure tonight.
JP@Donleavy’s 