JP, Rasher and Mono settled themselves on their bar stools. The drinks had already been signalled to Donleavy who was midway through that magical exercise of filling pint glasses with the black stuff. Any anxiety of a delay in the receipt of incoming was therefore dispelled and the three lads could content themselves with buttock shifting until they found that optimum spread of support versus comfort. JP was probably the first of the three to reach that state. At least if you interpret the contented sigh that arose from him as a positive indicator. With equilibrium established, each of the three looked ahead into the bar counter mirror while they awaited the first of the night. This was no establishment for vanishing into mobile phones screens. Neither for TVs nor piped music. Come to mention it – no vending machines, no jukeboxes, no games, or gaming machines. Donleavy ran a proper pub. And he was proud of it. JP, Rasher and Mono would support Donleavy to the edge of the world and then over the side.
Three creamy pints appeared. Already settled. There was no need for any delay to admire the eddies of the settling process. It was done. JP gave an almost imperceptible movement of his head and the synchronous pint drinking of our three amigos commenced. After a suitable and almost exactly equal volume was swallowed – and glasses were returned to the beer mat on the counter – contented sounds emanated from all three. There was then a brief moment of silence where each was absorbed in their own private thoughts.
Finally, JP broke the silence.
“If ya had yer chance again would ya do it all differently?”
Mono looked at Rasher. Rasher looked at JP.
“Don’t think so, JP. Think I’d drink the same amount. Kinda have it down to a fine art at this stage.”
Mono piped in as quick as a spit hopping off a hot shovel.
“Nah, JP. These are our barstools. Have been – like – forever. People expect us to sit here. Nah. Can’t see what good it’d be to sit somewhere else.”
JP looked from left to right and back again and scowled at them. The two boys ignored him. Then they laid into him
“Jayzus JP, lighten up, will ya. We’ve just arrived. What ‘bout some sex or politics or religion as an easy opener two-marker question?”
“Yeah, JP. The philosopher of the ages. Ya stone ya. That’s a bleedin’ question for after a third pint or maybe even a night full of whiskey chasers. What are ya thinkin’ of?”
“Well, that’s the bleedin’ night ruined.”
“Yeah – I’d just got so comfortable I’d let out a sneaky fart. Now me sphincter is as tight as a cat’s arse in a vice.”
“Jayzus, JP. We might have to go out and come in and start again.”
None of this took an ounce out of JP. He was well used to the exaggerated dramatics of his drinking partners. It ran off him like water off a duck’s back. They each went to the well of the pint glasses for more hydration and alcohol absorption. Equilibrium was re-established.
“But I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout this. Now – who are the guys who think ya come back?”
“Donleavy. He knows we’ll be back.”
“Our wifes? Maybe? But then again – maybe they pray each night that we won’t come back. Fecked if I’m sure on that one.”
“Me bookie. He loves to see me back. Only short of huggin’ me each time he sees me. I must have funded a villa in Provence for him at this stage.”
“Don’t know who else after that.”
JP looked to the heavens. He made a point of letting out a very long breath.
“D’ya actually bleedin’ know or not?”
Rasher looked contrite.
“Actually, JP. I think there’s a few of them. Buddhists, Sikhs, Hindus. I think all of them think they’re goin’ come back as world class cricketers.”
JP let out another long breath.
“Was that so beedin’ hard? Ya knew the answer all the time. I hope ya’r goin’ mind that chain now that ya yanked it off me.”
“I was actually aimin’ to pull yer wire JP, so I fecked up. Yer bloody chain is no use to me. Here – have the bloody thing.”
Volumes were getting dangerously low. It was Mono who first noticed it and took the responsibility and with a finger in the air, a clear signal was given to Donleavy that swift replenishment was required. Donleavy went about his task with his customary gusto. There is no greater anxiety than empty glass anxiety. It can cripple an evening. Mono had averted a potential catastrophe. He needed no thanks. It was all part of friendship.
As they settled into the replenished beverages an air of serenity descended once more. Nothing like a fresh pint to calm a troubled soul. The bar counter mirror went back to it’s job of absorbing the stares of our heroes. Direct stares. Reflected stares. Stares deflected off spirit bottles. This mirror had seen it all and was ready for any optics. This time it was Rasher who interjected into the silence.
“I’m guessin’ I wouldn’t change much. It’s been OK. I mean a bit of extra moolah never goes astray. If I could change it around the edges that there’d be more shekels, yo-yos, dosh – yeah – that wouldn’t go astray.”
They all ruminated on this for a while.
“What ‘bout you Mono?”
Mono felt he needed another shot from the pint before he could articulate a response. They all joined in the additional aliquot to give him support. He changed his head position multiple times before he gave it air.
“It’s been OK. I had a decent childhood. I remember fun. Teachers hit me. But no abuse. Nobody messed with me willy or me head. I got some education. I gotta job. I have a wife and children. Good friends. Except you two reprobates. Apart from you two – me life’s not bad.”
They all smiled at other. There was a lapse in the conversation. Mono and Rasher almost aired in stereo.
“….and wha’ ‘bout you JP? What’s the story, Rory?”
JP took a long time before answering. He loved the dramatic pause. Loved to create the sense of anticipation. Even with an audience of only two, he liked to milk it for all that it was worth. He eventually gave forth – getting it out in that millisecond just before the delay would fester into abuse.
“Feck – yes. I’d do it all completely different. Every last little, tiny, drop. Every shaggin’ thing.”
The two lads sat bolt upright in their seats. This was as unexpected as if Donleavy had arrived with three pints of lager.
“Wha’ the feck?”
“I don’t believe ya JP.”
JP had their attention.
“What the hell’s the point in goin’ thru this one and not learnin’ enough to make it different. Change and grow – isn’t that what the feckers say. Well then – in another future me wouldn’t be here skullin’ pints. I’d be quaffin’ fine wines and brandy and spirits in some upmarket waterin’ hole.”
“Jayzus, don’t let Donleavy hear ya. We’ll be barred.”
The two lads thought some more.
“But we’d all still be mates, yeah? That wouldn’t change. Yeah?”
JP thought for a while.
“I doubt if we’d be hoofin’ around in the same circles. So – we’d probably never even meet. So – I guess not.”
Looks of incredulity and then darkness waved over the faces of Mono and Rasher.
“What the actual feck, JP? You’re saying we wouldn’t be good enough for ya in the next life. Well maybe we’re not even good enough for ya now? Is that what yer drivin’ at? Dickhead.”
“Hey. Hey. Hey. Stall the digger. Hold the pony. Hold on. Hold on. I never said an’thin’ like tha’. You said ya weren’t changin’ in the next world. Yer were goin’ to be exactly the same. I said I’d probably be elsewhere. That’s it. You decided. Don’t lay it all on me.”
The two lads were not mollified. They were still seething. Some active volcanos probably had less pent-up lava.
“Feck it JP, I never saw ya for one that’d turn on us.”
“Yeah. JP. Turncoat. Traitor. Never saw ya as one to take the shillin’.”
JP let out a heavily exasperated sigh. One that seemed to go on and on past what a normal lungful would generate. His chin dropped to his chest.
“Jayzuz, lads. Feck sake. We’ll always be friends. Tight as a zebra’s buttocks lookin’ into the jaws of a lion.”
The two lads looked less than convinced.
“I’m sorry I even brought up the subject. And….Jayzus….it’s not even this life. We’re talkin’ about the next life. Give a chap a bleedin’ break will ya?”
The two lads still didn’t look to be softening in their stance to any degree.
“What can I say to convince ya?”
Rasher looked at Mono. Mono looked at Rasher. There were a few moments of quiet. It was Rasher who broke the silence.
“It might help the situation if ya stand for a fresh cod and chips for us both.”
“Jayzus. Yeah. Whatever.”
“And onion rings.”
“Feck. Yeah. Whatever.”
“And a Club Orange.”
“Yeah. Yeah.”
“And a deep-fried Mars bar.”
“Ah….here….you’re tearin’ the arse out of it now. Ya can feckin’ rot in the next life for all I care.”
“OK. Hold the Mars bar.”
They drained their drink.
“Give Donleavy the nod there. We’ll get to the chipper before the crowd.”
Just another night in Donleavys.
JP@Donleavy’s 