It was a momentous day in Donleavy’s pub. Another one of those iconic days that one would write into the history of this wonderful establishment. Donleavy had continued to serve illicit pints to his chosen customers all the way through the pandemic. Didn’t matter what Greek letter they were putting in front of the nasty spikey virus – Donleavy continued, under cover of black-out and secret approaches – to provide pints to the good people. Then there had been the pub reopening but only with tables outside. Now. Now. Now finally – with a reasonable few environmental and administrative controls – the punters were back in the bar. It was supposed to be seating only at tables and no service at the bar, but there wasn’t a wild horse in the land which could keep JP, Mono and Rasher away from their seats at the bar. It would be inconceivable to picture them anywhere else within the sacred ground of Donleavy’s bar. Donleavy didn’t even bother suggesting it. After all – the wood in those particular bar stools had been moulded over time to reflect the perfectly matched contours of the buttocks of our three warriors. The only concession to the spikey ‘Rona was that our amigos spread themselves at the bar counter a little bit more than usual. Not two meters, but an arm’s length. They felt it was the least they could do to set some good role model actions for the younger imbibers.
Three pints settled in front of them. They stared at them with a look that approached reverence. When the final creamy eddy had been captured by the black magic, they picked up their glasses in well-practised synchronicity and wished each other a healthy life.
“Slainte.”
Nods.
“Aaaah. It’s a great day. July 26th 2021. Remember the date lads. Its historic. Its like Independence Day. The day we officially got our pub back to us. No more hiding and creeping in shadows. We can walk in the front door, sit at the counter, give the nod to Donleavy and drink a legal pint.”
“Jaysus, ya can whistle all that JP. I’ll give ya a tune.”
The boys went back to their own private happy, contented thoughts. All was right with the world. The ‘Delta lad’ was still lurking around every corner like the cowardly spikey sleeveen that he was – but for this moment all was good with the world. JP looked in turn to his right and to his left – taking in the vista of his trusted lieutenants. He was so glad to be back looking into the bar counter mirror in front of him. The mirror and all those bottles. The catalysts for years of endless conversational inspiration.
“Hey lad, I forgot to tell yez.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Me and the doll were out for dinner on Monday night.”
“Jaysus, ya didn’t wait long. Covid regulations are lifted and yer like horses under starters orders. And they’re off!”
“So where’d ya go? What was it like?”
JP took another large swallow of his pint to ready himself.
“Naw. Naw. Never mind that. A little story for ya.”
“Go on.”
“We were all sitting down, and everything seemed to be working like clockwork. Show the ol’ Covid vaccination cert on the phone, give the contact details and we’re sitting down looking at the menu. Almost like old times. Restaurant is filling up at this stage. People having a pre-dinner gargle and the chicken wing starters.”
“Jaysus, JP – yer putting a longing on me.”
JP took advantage of the interruption to take another large swig. He rested his pint back on the bar and raised a finger in the air to signal Donleavy towards a requirement for more incoming. One can never be too careful in respect of minding the inventory of available fresh pints. Experienced players like the three amigos make sure never to be caught out.
“So where was I? Oh yeah. Everything seems to be going swimmingly – as I said – almost like old times. Then there seems to be a kerfuffle at the restaurant door. Raised voices. Some shouting. We’re all straining to see what’s going on.”
“And what was it?”
“Let me keep going, will ya.”
Donleavy arrived with three pint glasses. The answers to the mysteries of life in liquid form. The soul of darkness topped by the cream of light. The boys, even after all these years, stopped their conversation to acknowledge the reverence of the settling period. When the black and white had found their respective rightful homes, conversation recommenced.
“Turns out we had one of those anti-vaxers at the restaurant door. Shouting about his democratic rights. Squealing about discrimination.”
“So what happened?”
“Well the poor young lad the owner had placed at the restaurant door didn’t know what to do. He had a reddener on his face that would have lit a whole street. He was out of his depth. If he’d been in a swimming pool, he’d have been gasping for air.”
“Poor lad.”
“Yeah. Well – he got some help. Nearly every single one of the punters in the restaurant drowned out the anti-vaxer. Very diplomatic stuff. Lots of F’s and B’s and C’s and P’s. Colourful stuff, mind. Not really UN diplomacy language.”
“Then what happened?”
“Well of course the anti-vaxer had a feckin’ audience now. Just what they love. He was holding his ground and giving it all back.”
“Mexican stand off?”
They went to their new pints. There was synchronised pint drinking that would have taken gold by a street at the Tokyo Olympics. Satisfying sounds of aaah and oooh punctuated the general hum of the Donleavy pub ambience. Lips were wiped and dried on trouser legs. The boys sat further back on their stools once more.
“He came out of nowhere.”
“Who.”
“I could only describe him as a biker type. Big ZZ Top beard on him. Straggly hair. Biceps the size of my thighs and black with tatoos. But more important – he was built like a brick shithouse door. Almost blocked out any natural light. He just stood in front of the anti-vaxer. Says he…’I’ll give you a choice, leave now and live or…’ He didn’t even get to finish the sentence. Yer man was gone like a scalded cat. Like cold snot off a hot stick. And such a cheer went up in the restaurant. Ya’d think we’d won the World Cup.”
“Fecking great when the people stand together.”
“Too right.”
“Will we stand together for a battered cod and chips.”
“Sound as a brown trout. Give Donleavy the nod there.”
They made their way out the front door. Even that felt great. Going out the front door.
Just another night in Donleavy’s.
Well – maybe a slightly different night.
JP@Donleavy’s 