It was another unpleasant rainy day and evening. The clouds had never moved from their grey state and never allowed any of that wonderful blue sky, that we know lives ‘up there’, to peak through at any stage. The only thing that differed all day was whether the grey clouds would spit on them or just threaten them. At least that’s how JP, Rasher and Mono rationalised the weather’s behaviour on this miserable day. However, on a more positive note, they were by now on their second pint and any lingering dampness had evaporated into Donleavy’s pub atmosphere and any lingering negativity had been absorbed by Donleavy’s pub ambience. The magic was working. In fact, one could predict that if our three bar room warriors were hooked up to medically certified monitoring equipment, that their resting heart rates – their beats per minute – would have significantly reduced compared to the moment they passed Donleavy’s threshold. Yes – the magic was working.
Another form of magic was about to be demonstrated. Rasher had raised a finger in the air signalling to Donleavy that the volume in their respective pint glasses had decreased to such a scenario that an inventory re-order point had been triggered. Fresh pints were required. Donleavy acknowledged the re-order with an almost imperceptible nod and the business of replenishing the supply chain was initiated. Donleavy started pulling pints. Soon those pints would be settling with their black and white eddies vying for supremacy until the while collar would dominate its more voluminous black foundation and a perfectly settled pint would result. JP, Rasher and Mono never ceased to enjoy the wonder of a settling pint. However, let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves. Donleavy was still at the earlier stage of the supply chain cycle.
As they drained their glasses – and it was OK ands safe to do this now that they were confident that incoming would result in a short space of time – JP took the opportunity to float out a new topic of conversation.
“Hey, lads. What’s yer earliest memory of one of yer own Eureka moments?”
Rasher looked at Mono. Mono looked at Rasher.
“Eur E Ka. Is tha’ somethin’ to do with the European Union or wha’?
JP looked at Rasher incredulously.
“Ah feck it, Rasher. Were ya awake in science class atall? D’ya not ‘member the Greek lad way back who discovered the answer to somethin’ while he was in the bath and jumped out and ran in his nakidity thru the streets shoutin’ ‘Eureka’.”
Mono looked at Rasher. Rasher looked at Mono.
“Ya know, JP. I do kinda ‘member somethin’ like tha’, now that ya mention it.”
By this stage Donleavy had arrived and placed a triangle of freshly poured pints on the counter. He removed the empty glasses and then separated the new pints with reverence, placing them on new bar mats with the logos on the glasses pointing in the direction of our three amigos and with the beer mats equidistant from each other and from the bar counter edge. JP threw out the same question.
“Thanks Donleavy. Tell us. D’ya have a memory of yer own earliest Eureka moment?”
Donleavy took a step back for a minute, placed his two hands on the counter and pushed his not inconsiderable bulk backwards. He rocked slightly like this was for a while and then reverted.
“I do. I do. And here it is. Just because somethin’ travels in one direction, doesn’t necessarily mean it can go back again in the reverse direction.”
The three lads took this on board for a while.
“Sounds very scientific.”
“Yeah. Would tha’ be called Donleavy’s Law?”
“Also sounds like there’s a bleedin’ back story.”
Donleavy rocked a bit more.
“Yeah. Dead right there Mono. I dunno wha’ age I was but I know I was very young. Me Mam was doin’ a bit of window shoppin’ on a Sunday. Muggins here decided to test out a wooden shop gate to see if the gaps between the vertical boards would accommodate me puttin’ me head thru. Well – they did. But somehow wouldn’t allow me head to come back. I was standin’ there like a little kid with me head in the stocks.”
The lads had a guffaw at that image. Donleavy in the stocks.
“So wha’ happened?”
“They tried everythin’. Greasing me head. Everythin’. But me head was never comin’ back out. Me Ma had to get someone to go get a saw and cut the boards and release me.”
The lads had another guffaw as they pictured that one.
“….and then on the Monday she had to go back to the shop, own up on behalf of her stupid kid and offer to pay for a new shop gate.”
“Jayzus, Donleavy.”
“No jailbreak for you, pal.”
“Bet tha’ was the end of yer pocket money for a while.”
By this stage Donleavy’s attention was requested elsewhere down the bar and the three lads were left to ruminate on their own ‘Eureka’ moments.
Rasher was the first one to offer a memory.
“I can still ‘member a bleedin’ breakthrough moment for me.”
They urged him to share.
“I can still vividly ‘member the first time I realised that – while shoes need to go on their own feet – the left shoe on the left foot and right shoe on the right foot – that socks could go on either foot.”
“Hey!”
“Yeah – fair play.”
“Now I’m not sayin’ I ran naked thru’ the streets but I definitely felt at the time that this was a major bleedin’ discovery.”
They both endorsed that this fitted neatly into the category of a revolutionary step forward in life’s understanding. JP decided to go next.
“I can still vividly ‘member that day I lost all faith and trust in adults. I can’t ‘member what age I was but I do ‘member I was very young and probably very much ahead of my time in realisin’ that adults can’t be trusted.”
Mono looked at Rasher. Rasher looked at Mono.
“Jayzus, JP. Tha’ sounds serious. Wha’ the hell happened?”
“It was to do with eggs.”
They replied ‘eggs’ in surprise and stereo.
“Yeah. Eggs. Me Ma and Da used to keep tellin’ me to eat the yolk because all the goodness of the egg was in the yolk.”
They replied ‘yeah’ in tacit agreement and in stereo.
“Yeah. But then I started likin’ the yolk and leavin’ the white behind. And wha’ did they tell me? To eat the white because all the goodness of the egg was in the white. How could a young whippersnapper ever trust them again?”
They replied ‘feck’ in total agreement and in stereo.
By this stage it was time to wet the larynx again and JP issued the subliminal signal for an aliquot of the now perfectly settled pint to be consumed. A masterful exhibition of synchronous pint-drinking followed. When a suitable time had elapsed to savour what had gone before, JP urged the final submission to take place.
“Well, Mono. Wha’ ‘bout ya?”
Mono scratched his chin.
“Jayzus, lads. I’ve been tryin’ to think. Honestly. I’ve even been stressed out listenin’ to y’all. I can’t think of anythin’. Nothin’ is comin’ to mind.”
The two lads were nothing but encouragement and support.
“Just relax and let it come to ya.”
“Yeah. It’s there. Think back to when ya were five or six.”
Mono closed his eyes. He thought for a while and then slowly opened his eyes again and surveyed his close friends.
“There is somethin’.”
“OK. Let ‘er rip.”
“Go for it.”
Mono was a bit sheepish but continued nevertheless.
“Its to do with Lego.”
Nobody spoke.
“I used to build houses all the time.”
Still nobody spoke.
“But for a long time, when I’d get to the top of the wall I’d put the first roof brick square on the top of the wall.”
Still nobody spoke – and to be honest – there was a tiny trace of brow-furrowing with the audience.
“Then I suddenly realised, as if the idea struck me like lightning, that the first roof brick needed to overhang. Ya know? Not square Lego-brick-on-Lego-brick but offset. And wha’ a difference it made to me houses! They were so much better. Bleedin’ brilliant they were.”
The two lads shared his revelation moment and clinked glasses. After that there were a lot of other shared memories exchanged. Lots of questions that began with ‘d’ya ‘member’ and ‘wait till I tell ya’. The stories and the pints went down well. As they came close to the end of a particular pint, JP brought things more up to date.
“Who do ya think discovered the battered cod, d’ya think?”
Mono looked at Rasher. Rasher looked at Mono.
“Who bleedin’ cares. Let’s just go for a one and one.”
“Yer right. Doesn’t bleedin’ matter. Anyway, ya couldn’t imagine the chipper man running bare arsed through our street with a chip basket in his hand.”
They clinked glasses again and drained them.
“Give Donleavy the nod there.”
Just another night in Donleavy’s.
JP@Donleavy’s 