The three lads weren’t sure whether they were out or whether they were out out. The pints were tasting really good, and Donleavy was excelling himself behind the bar in ensuring that service was hyper-efficient and levels in the pint glass never fell below the critical reorder point before inventory was restocked. Pints kept flowing. It was just one of those nights where everything seemed alright with the world. The fact that the world was well on its way to going to hell in a handbag was irrelevant. And maybe it was because the world had completely fallen arse over tit that catalysed JP, Mono and Rasher to take additional pleasure from the joys of relaxed company and superior pints.
Nobody had actually said anything, made no attempt to force conversation over the last extended period. Well – that is – if you exclude ooohs and aaahs of satisfaction and maybe the odd sneaky fart. But this monastic silence couldn’t last forever. Eventually it was JP who split the silence atom.
‘Can I tell a story, lads?’
‘All ears’.
‘Yer clear for takeoff’.
JP reached out for his pint glass, no doubt to oil the larynx before he began. The other two lads fired their arms out and made up the milliseconds of reaction difference so that all three pint glasses arced into the air at the same time, same trajectory and same duration. Oh, if only synchronous pint drinking was an Olympic event!
Pint glasses re-engaged with beer mats and even with a slow screen video replay it would been impossible to discern any difference or time lag between the touchdowns. This was mastery at the most amazing level. JP wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and took a deep breath.
‘It’s a true story, lads’. I promise ya that.
‘Mighty’.
‘Better again.’
JP looked from right to left. From Mono to Rasher.
‘It’s about America’.
Nobody said anything.
‘Well, that’s not strictly right. It’s about Americans’.
Nobody said anything.
JP harrumphed and got himself into his stride.
‘True story, guys’.
‘Ya said that’.
‘Got it the first time’.
JP looked up the bar counter.
‘Maybe I’ll wait until Donleavy isn’t busy and bring him in for the story’.
Mono looked at Rasher. Rasher looked at Mono.
‘Jayzus, get on with it – will ya’.
‘Yeah, we’ll be doing Bed and Breakfast, if ya don’t get a move on’.
JP decided on the basis of the feedback that he could enlighten Donleavy at some future juncture.
He began:
‘I want ya to picture the scene. It’s a ferry comin’ back into the country. We’ve been travellin’ across the sea for 24 hours. We can now see land in the distance’.
‘Jayzus, JP, yer not shaggin’ Christopher Columbus’.
‘….or bleedin’ Scott of the Antarctic’.
JP didn’t let them rattle him. He kept his composure and continued in a calm voice.
‘When ya’ve been on a ferry for that long it’s only natural to gravitate to the decks and watch the land get closer’.
The two boys nodded in agreement. They’d both done these type of ferry trips and knew what JP was talking about.
JP watched the nodding head validation and went on to the next level of the story.
‘So behind me are these two big Yanks. They’re not travellin’ together but Yanks seem to have this radar system where they pick up a similar species without ever havin’ to hear each other speak’.
More nodding.
‘So, they start talkin’ to each other swappin’ zip codes’.
‘Yeah, well, in fairness, we’d be like that too. Tryin’ to figure out where yer from, what’s yer seed, breed and generation and does anyone in yer family owe us any money’.
They had a bit of a guffaw over that one.
‘But this is where it gets good. We’re gettin’ ever closer to land and there is an announcement on the speaker thing, on the Tannoy’.
JP talks through his nose and does his best impersonation of a speaker announcement.
‘Would all non-EU citizens please ensure that they fill in a disembarkation card before landing’.
Rasher and Mono shared another guffaw.
‘Jayzus, JP, ya’d make a great little announcer’.
‘Yeah. I could just imagine ya in the supermarket. Non anal leakage Beans on aisle 9 are on special today. Diet Cola has been relocated to the battery acid shelves’.
They clinked glasses. That was worth another synchronous, equi-volume imbibing.
‘So where was I. Oh, yeah. The non-EU citizens to fill out their cards. So – and I shit you not – one Yank turns around to the other and he says ‘Gee, are we a member of the EU?’’
The two lads lift their eyes to heaven.
‘….and then – wait for it – it gets better – the other Yank turns around and says ‘Sure are. We’re the biggest member of it’’.
Rasher looked at Mono. Mono looked at Rasher
‘And I promise you as sure as I sitting here with me arse perfectly balanced on this barstool – that’s a true story’.
‘For feck sake’.
‘That’s fecked up on so many levels’.
JP had a smug grin of satisfaction on his face.
Rasher was all for decisive action.
‘Wha’ ‘bout we finish the pint and go for a battered cod and chips before the world collapses into a black hole’.
‘Sound idea’.
‘Give Donleavy the nod there’.
Just another night in Donleavy’s.
JP@Donleavy’s 