JP, Mono and Rasher were seated on their usual barstools in Donleavy’s on a fine Spring evening. It did seem like a shame to be indoors in a pub on probably the first decent day of weather since the previous year. Thankfully, Donleavy had pulled the blinds so that the sunshine didn’t penetrate the bar and pile levels of guilt onto the innocent imbibers. A low level of lighting was always good in a pub environment and there are probably oodles of scientific data to support the fact that low lux combined with fresh pints has a commandingly positive impact on mental health. Whether that is medically consistent or not, our three amigos were quite serene as they finalised some buttock equilibration on individual barstools and waited for pints to settle.
Once separation was achieved, JP emitted that subliminal signal that said that synchronous pint drinking could commence. What a thing of beauty! Three pint glasses arcing through the air in perfect harmony, resting on lips for exactly the same timescales, arcing back to beer mats and arriving on the counter with the same quantities removed and achieving touchdown at the exact same time. Years of practise had gone into this phenomenal human activity understanding. Evolution had brought this practise to such a level of perfection it was incredible to behold. Now, however, was the time for individual expression and there was wide variation in the ooohs and aaahs of personal satisfaction.
JP wallowed in satisfaction for a while before breaking the silence.
“Were either of ya bullied in the schoolyard?”
Rasher looked at Mono. Mono looked at Rasher. They often wondered where exactly JP dragged up the conversation openers. Clearly a study of ‘JP conversation openers’ could provide fodder for a myriad of PhD’s for interested, budding anthropologists.
“Nah.”
“Nah.”
The reply came in surround sound stereo. (JP always sat in the middle, flanked by his trusty lieutenants).
“Were ya ever a schoolyard bully yerself?”
The two lads had an equal look of shock and disappointment.
“Ah Jayzus, JP.”
“For feck sake.”
JP ploughed on regardless.
“Just checkin’ – for completeness – ya know. Important to get a full background check.”
They went back to their pints. The situation seemed to warrant another cycle of relaxation. A reestablishment of equilibrium took place. Mono took up the reins.
“Wha’ the hell are ya askin’ ‘bout schoolyard bullyin’ for?”
JP ruminated for a while before answering.
“I want ya to think back, lads. Imagine yerself back in the yard. Biffo the Bully, or whatever he was called – because he has his own personal problems, feels the need for others to feel worse than him.”
Rasher looked at Mono. Mono looked at Rasher. They smiled.
“Yeah. Get that.”
“Yeah – I can actually picture the fecker.”
JP waved his hands like a priest recognising his flock.
“And wha’ happens first?”
Mono was back in again.
“Feckin’ Biffo starts pushin’ someone in the chest…and the crowd gather ‘round.”
Rasher added to the image.
“….and Joe Bullied tries to push his chest out to make himself look bigger than he is.”
JP issued the subliminal signal to trigger around visit to the well. Rasher then raised a finger in the air to give Donleavy the well-understood signal that stock levels had reduced sufficiently that additional inventory needed to be addressed by another immediate order. Like a mega efficient supply chain, Donleavy was addressing the order by pulling the first pint almost before Rasher’s finger returned to the horizontal. Businesses could learn a lot from the practises at Donleavy’s pub. While they awaited the arrival of the next round of incoming, JP ‘went back’ to the schoolyard.
“….and there follows a fair bit of pushin’ and shovin’ and in yer face stuff. Yeah?”
Rasher had the bit between his teeth at this stage. He was well ‘back’ in the schoolyard.
“….and if I’m Joe Bullied I’ll probably say to Biffo tha’ me Da is goin’ to wreck Biffo’s head.”
“….and Biffo will probably say that his Da is much bigger and will rip off Joe Bullied Da’s head.”
They discussed for a while how it would go back and forth with various statements about whose parent was bigger and how parental body parts would be parted company with torsos and how an abundance of blood would be spilled between the parents. Also, while all this was playing out there would be a continuation of chest pushing and shoving between Biffo and Joe Bullied. This drama would be accompanied by the other children forming a circle around the protagonists without wishing to get involved and with quiet appreciation for the fact that each individually was not in the position of Joe Bullied.
By this stage the replenishment was arriving on the bar counter. This was the signal to drain the pint glasses of remaining liquid so that Donleavy could efficiently swap out the new for the old. This act of rejuvenation was carried out with hand actions and body movements that any aspiring gymnast would be well proud. For a man of Donleavy’s size and bulk, his movements up and down the bar counter were amazing and the only word that adequately gave an accurate description was as if he was ‘gliding’. A few pleasantries were exchanged regarding present wellbeing, current weather and future forecasts. It was then reasonable for Donleavy to move on and for our heroes to reengage with the schoolyard drama.
JP looked right and left to make sure he was back with undivided attention.
“So, now we know what the scene looks like. But how does it all generally end.”
Mono looked at Rasher. Rasher looked at Mono. Each egging the other on to respond. Finally, Rasher felt obliged to issue a response of behalf of both of them.
“The crowd lose interest. Somethin’ more excitin’ comes along. Or a distraction – they get called back into class.”
Mono had additional time now to make a contribution.
“Or Biffo might realise that he underestimated Joe Bullied and he’s not as soft a touch as he initially figured.”
JP seemed happy with the responses and a return to the pint glasses was called for. After wiping his mouth with the back of his hand he added his own contribution.
“Yeah. It throws things up in a heap for a while. It messes up the games in the schoolyard which everyone was enjoyin’. But usually, it just peters out and as long as no-one loses their lunch money then there probably isn’t a lot of long-term harm done.”
Time for another visit to the well. After a period of reflection Mono sought a clarification.
“Hey, JP. What the hell was that all ‘bout. What the bejayzuz brought schoolyard bullies into yer mind?”
JP looked at each of them in turn and smiled.
“Just think of it all as schoolyard tariffs.”
They all had a wry smile.
“What the hell. Let’s get down to the chipper quick before there’s a twenty five percent increase in the price of a smoked cod and chips.”
“Yayzuz. Yer right. Urgent action required.”
“The job is Oxo. Give Donleavy the nod there.”
Just another night in Donleavy’s.
JP@Donleavy’s 