The weather was brutal. It was December in angry mood. Even the small walk from the cars to the barstools at Donleavy’s bar counter had resulted in rainwater dripping from the foreheads of our three heroes. They shook themselves off as they took to their usual locations with JP in the middle and flanked by Mono and Rasher. Donleavy mopped the counter and was even more welcoming than normal to subconsciously try to counteract the dreariness of the weather.
“Get yerselves comfortable there, lads. I’ve already put on the pints for ye. That’s shockin’ out there, ain’t it.”
“Ya can whistle that, Donleavy. I’ll even give ya a tune. Not fit for man nor beast. Ya wouldn’t fire a cat out in it.”
“Too bleedin’ true – if ya did, it would only be addin’ to the cats and dogs that its rainin’ now.”
“Hey. Very sharp. Very droll. Someone hasn’t had their brain dampened under all that rainwater.”
They did a fair degree of buttock moving until each found their equilibrium on their respective barstools. By this time Donleavy had appeared with three magical settled pints. With a high degree of ceremony Donleavy placed three beermats equidistant from each other and placed the pint glasses down. It was not coincidental that the logo on each glass faced its future imbiber and with a final reverential flourish he backed away and intoned:
“Gentleman. For now – I entreat you to enjoy. For later – I await your every wish”
He finished with a multi-stage bow.
“Jayzus Donleavy, you’re a character.”
“Yeah, ya should be on the stage.”
“Or in the flicks.”
JP, Rasher and Mono considered their pints for a while before the subliminal signal indicated that it was time to reach out for that first aliquot. The first sup is always the most sublime. Three hands and arms in perfect harmony delivered the glasses to their grateful recipients and with unerring precision the glasses arrived back on beermats at exactly the same time and with exactly the same volume removed. Perfection personified at a bar counter. There were choruses of ooohs and aaahs and the three amigos settled into the evening with a calm and a grace that only masters of their art could possibly achieve.
JP decided that it was time to launch the topic of the evening.
“What do ya reckon with this AI thing, lads?”
Rasher looked at Mono. Mono looked at Rasher.
“Ya mean not needin’ the bull. Just shovin’ the stuff up the cow’s whatsit?”
“Yeah. Imagine havin’ to tell someone that was yer job. Or worse. That yer involved at the source – masturbatin’ bulls, Jayzus. That’d be some turn off if yer were tryin’ to chat someone up. What do ya do? I provide relief to bulls.”
JP shot them both a disdainful look.
“Artificial Intelligence ya pair of messers. Not bleedin’ artificial insemination. Yer just tryin’ to take the piss.”
“Eh no, JP.”
“Not piss.”
JP flicked disdain into contempt.
“Don’t even think of sayin’ it.”
The two lads sniggered like schoolboys under the desk at the back of the classroom. JP considered just cutting his losses and going back to the weather conversation topic. But at the last moment he decided not to give them the satisfaction of feeling they had got one over on him.
“This is a serious bleedin’ topic, lads. We are goin’ through one of the big step changes in civilisation here. I’m trying to think like Einstein here and you pair are thinking like Dennis The Menace.”
“Epstein?”
“Did ya say Epstein?”
There were back of the classroom laughs again. JP was close to blowing a gasket, but he still didn’t want to give them any further pleasure or fodder to trivialise the conversation, He decided to ignore them. He called out loudly down the bar counter.
` “DONLEAVY….”
The barman glided up the bar with the elegance of a man half his generous weight.
“Jayzus, JP. What is it? Is the pint not right or summit? What’s goin’ on?”
JP opened up his arms like a priest on the alter and rushed to calm his favourite barman.
“Nah. Nah. The pint is perfect as always. I was trying to have a conversation about AI with these two ludramans here, but they seem to have the intellect of a cabbage here tonight. What do ya think of AI, yerself? Do ya think it’ll replace ya as a barman? Will pints get pulled and delivered by robots soon?”
Donleavy gave it some earnest consideration before finding his best response.
“Ya know JP, I’ve been thinkin’ the exact same question. And I reckon – for sure. It’d be an easy enough technology to introduce. Ya wouldn’t even need robot loungeboys. Just run a series of overhead tracks and pully things to the bar counter and tables. Ya order on yer phone and it appears. Ya wouldn’t even need to see the taps. They could be anywhere.”
All three of our heroes were engrossed by the reply. They each had their own individual mental picture of their pub in the future. From the look on their individual faces, they were not relishing the day when a track and pulley delivered their pints. The notion took a while to settle in, longer than it typically took for their pints to settle. All this while Donleavy was leaning against the barcounter almost looking like he was using the counter to practise his pushups.
As usual it was JP who broke the respective reveries.
“What the actual feck, Donleavy. That can’t happen.”
Donleavy was sanguine.
“Can’t hold back change JP. Its written in the stars.”
Rasher pitched in.
“But you’re our star, Donleavy. What would be the point of coming to the pub without the atmosphere that you create?”
“Very nice of you to say so, Rasher. Remind me to give you a chaser on the house later. I’m always open to people blowin’ smoke up me arse. But its not all bad. While the tracks and pulleys will be deliverin’ the pints and electronically transferrin’ yer hard earned cash to my account, I’ll be free to mingle on the table like a front of house man. I’ll be even twice my slim figure because I won’t be runnin’ around anymore. I’ll just be chillin’ out talkin’ to the punters like yerselves and doin’ feck all but watching me bank account swell. How bad?”
The three lads absorbed this for a while.
“Well Donleavy, at least yer battery still has a positive pole. Fair fecks to ya. In the meantime, while yer still the pint puller – throw on another round there. And don’t forget the chaser. We’ll go one more and then head to the chipper.”
“Yeah. Maybe ya should think of yer tracks and pulleys servin’ battered cod and chips in the pub too. Integrate the supply chain. Put the chipper out of business.”
“Well, that’s a thought.”
“Might as well offer sleepin’ pods as well. For nights like tonight – save us goin’ out into them sheets of shaggin’ rain.”
“Now that’s another thought. Warm bed sheets in the pub rather than wet rain sheets in the cold wind. Ya could be on to somethin’ there Mono.”
Donleavy rubbed his chin.
“Ya know lads. Yez are shaggin’ wasted. Yer a mine of ideas. We should have a round table thinktank sometime. We can plot a world domination strategy.”
They raised their glasses, had a good guffaw and clinked.
“To world domination.”
Just another night in Donleavy’s.
JP@Donleavy’s 