JP, Rasher and Mono watched as Donleavy moved up and down behind the bar counter. He seemed to be moving like a punch-drunk boxer unaware of his purpose. They were concerned for their bar owner, barman and dare they say it – friend. He had illegally kept Donleavy’s bar ‘open’ to his select customers through each Covid lockdown. He had reopened when briefly allowed. But now he really didn’t seem to know whether he was coming or going. He was even muttering to himself between orders. He had all the looks of a man with a fragile line of mental health. Our three amigos didn’t know what they could do for him other than keep him busy ordering further pints. Maybe that would keep Donleavy on the good side of the line.
Rasher put his finger up. Donleavy raised his head long enough to spot the signal. The ritual of preparing three additional creamy pints began and progressed. This was not a pub where you got any of those silly shamrocks on the top of the pint. No chance. Donleavy interviewed a guy for a barman job on one occasion – where the prospective employee thought this shamrock thing would be impressive. They all joked later that it resulted in a much-witnessed episode of levitation. The guy’s feet didn’t touch the ground on the way out. No. This is ‘Donleavy’s’. And this is where culture counts. And there are certain behaviours accepted and others despised. Try talking to Donleavy about having a TV in the bar…or piped music…but only if you dare…and only if you have the bravery of a mountain lion. Donleavy has been known to leave clientele walking out of the pub on stumps after he’d cut the legs from under them.
JP was thinking about all this as he worried about this best bar owner in the country. Who else would respect his patrons so much that he would defy the law to keep them in pints and conversation? And clearly it was taking its toll. And it wasn’t for the money. There was only a very exclusive, hand-picked group of imbibers in the inner, golden circle. And to what extent must Donleavy have had to go, to ensure continuity of supply. JP was sure there must be a few brown envelopes being exchanged. This whole Covid thing was weird. Unreal. Like an out of body experience.
“Sometimes I think I’m looking down”, JP continued his thoughts into voice.
“Wha’?”
“Yar lookin’ down! Yar looking down into the dregs of yer pint until Donleavy arrives with incoming.”
JP stared into the bar counter mirror – just left of the Marsala bottle. What the hell was a bottle of Marsala doing in Donleavy’s pub? JP continued to look intently. He found when he focussed at a point in the mirror his thoughts seemed to clarify in a better way.
“Naw. I mean sometimes it seems so unreal that I’m lookin’ in from the outside.”
“Jaysus, JP. Make up yer mind. Are you lookin’ in or lookin’ down?”
“JP, knowin’ you – you’re probably lookin’ up as well. I’m feelin’ jealous now. Wish I could look up, look down and look in… all at the same time, huh. JP joins the band of superpower brothers. That’s worth drinkin’ to.”
“Yeah. If we ever get fresh pints. I think Donleavy is gone Covatose.”
JP was trying to remember where he had come across Marsala before. It went into something. But it wasn’t coming to him. Ah well. He’d probably wake up bolt upright in the bed at three o’clock in the morning and it would hit him then. And there was something about what Rasher had just said that was leaving a stone in his shoe. What was it?
“Aha. Now I’ve got it.”
Rasher looked at Mono. Mono looked at Rasher. Quizzical eyebrows were raised and shared.
“Wha’ – the superpower?”
“No. It was somethin’ you said. It didn’t land right.”
Rasher threw his eyes to heaven and then cupped his hands around his mouth.
“Flight Rasherwords. Runway one-niner. You’re coming in too fast. Pull up. Pull up. Aaaah. Too late. Emergency services to runway one-niner.”
Mono lifted his glass. Rasher had recorded a strike. Best to recognise it with a raised pint.
JP had his chin tilted upwards and seemed to be searching for life’s meaning.
“Ya said ya were jealous.”
“Wha’?”
“Jealous of wha’?”
“I dunno. My superpower?”
“Ah Jaysus, JP. Ya don’t really have superpowers, ya do know that, don’t ya? Have ya turned into a complete Covidiot?”
“It’s the ‘jealous’ bit. You’re not jealous.”
“Course I’m not jealous. Ya don’t have superpowers. Now I do think yer a complete Covidiot.”
“Naw. It’s the word. Ya can’t be ‘jealous’. Ya can only be jealous of somethin’ ya have. What ya are is envious. Ya’re envious of my superpowers.”
“For feck sake, JP. Ya don’t have superpowers, OK. Ya’ll have to lay off the drink for a while. Try a dry month. Yer brains gone to mush.”
Mono waved his hands. He had been in mid-swallow when the lightbulb moment came on in his head. He desperately wanted Rasher’s attention, but he also didn’t want to inhale his pint rather than swallow it. He’d tried that before and the outcome isn’t pleasant for anyone. Finally, he managed to divert the drink from his windpipe into its rightful path down his gullet. He allowed himself a lungful of air.
“Hang on Rasher. JP’s right you know.”
“Ah Jaysus Mono. Don’t tell me ya think he got superpowers from Santie Claus?”
“No. Jealous. Envious. He’s on the money. Ya can’t be jealous of something ya don’t have Doesn’t make sense. Ya can be envious. But not jealous. Makes sense? Doesn’t make sense!”
Both Mono and JP spent the best part of ten minutes trying to explain it further to Rasher, but it was destined to be a homeless concept – never going to achieve a home in Rasher’s cerebrum. They had to let it go. And Rasher was starting to get a bit sulky – so it was time to move on.
“What about you Rasher? Do ya have any favourite wrongly used words?”
JP thought this was a good move. Bring him back from the sulky bit. Put him in charge. Rasher seemed to be in pensive mood for an extraordinary length of time and JP was half afraid his approach had backfired. Put then Rasher exploded from the blocks.
“Brutal!”
“Come again?”
“Brutal. If I said to ya that I had been to the cinema last night (d’ya still remember when cinemas were open and you could go to a ‘flick’) and the film was brutal – what would ya think?”
“That it was shite.”
“Yeah – shite – wojous – cat melodeon.”
“Yeah. Exactly. But do ya’member a while ago when one of the Irish magazines did a film review and wrote that a film was ‘brutal’. Next thing there is all these advertising hoardings in the London Underground advertising the film as ‘brutal’. And only the Irish people laughing – the rest all thought it was full of vicious, violent scenes.”
The three had a good laugh at that one. It was always a better laugh when there was a secret that I knew, and you didn’t – and when that included the whole population of London – well it didn’t come much better than that.
“Anymore?”
They thought hard with furrowed brows. They were concentrating so hard that they almost forgot their pints and to indulge themselves in regular synchronised gulps. Heresy. A heresy not for external publication. Rasher straightened his back and shot his shoulders back.
“Almost a virgin.”
“Yeah – that’d work.”
The momentum began to pick up.
“Pacific. I love that one. All those people who think there is a pacific reason why Donleavy pulls a great pint.”
“Hey nice one. And I want to pacifically pick you up on your specific contribution.”
“Oh yeah…and don’t forget ‘360’. He said ‘yes’. And then he did a complete 360 turn. So, WTF…that just means he said ‘yes’ again.”
“Listen. Listen. Now that I think about it – my all-time favourite. What does unique mean to ye, lads?”
The boys conferred for a while and came back with a confident response. One of a kind. Nothing to compare. A once-off.
“So how in the name of all that’s good and wholesome can somethin’ be very unique. I mean it’s either bleedin’ unique or it isn’t.”
They nodded. Sagely. The English language was still in good hands once Donleavy’s clientele were in charge.
“Will we go for a quarter pounder and a large bag.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Give Donleavy a wave.”
The lads made their way through the covert exit of the back room and the store area and out into the darkness of the rear yard.
Just another night in Donleavy’s.
JP@Donleavy’s 