The cows were milked early on the Tuesday night and I visited Granny. She had more masses said for me to get into college than Our Lord himself. Granny was a Fine Gael loving woman and I’m pretty sure she slept with a picture of Enda Kenny on the wall, but that night she took me aside and warned me to stay away from Fianna Failers and Sinn Feiners and be wary of Labour.
Early the next morning, myself and the auld one set off for Dublin. We arrived on time and unpacked. We noticed that all around us in the car park, parents and children were embracing each other with hugs, tears and goodbyes. Affection was not something that was embraced in the country. If you were seen hugging you mother it could be the end of you. Poor Joe Laffin once hugged his mother in primary school and he suffered more than the hay in a wet July. Luckily I got the customary “stay out of trouble” and “will you be home to plough on the weekend?”.
With the rest of the day free I had a look around and got invited over for a few drinks in a lad’s house before heading out. I got dressed, threw on my best jeans, a t-shirt I had been saving since Christmas 2009, €6.00 Penny’s shoes and put half a bottle of lynx on. I entered the lad’s apartment with my cans of Galahad, purchased from Aldi, and what I seen will haunt me for the rest of my years.
Chinos, skinny jeans, combats and pink shirts. I had been warned about this but nothing could prepare me for what was there. We took the Dublin Bus to the nightclub and as I handed the driver a €20.00 note expecting him to have change, ruptures of laughter suggested that myself and Dublin bus would be enemies.
Inside the club I got talking to a tasty looking blonde girl but hadn’t enough drink taken to throw the head in. So more Jager was consumed but unfortunately the blonde girl disappeared. It was coming near that hour of the night when I saw a well-wintered girl on the dance floor with a head on her like a rusty shear grab and I thought to myself “sure who will ever know”. I don’t need to tell you what I did next.
Instantly regretting my decision I fled the scene. I bumped into blonde girl, we kissed – a feeling that can only be eclipsed by having the prize bullock back in the Mart. I invited her back to mine and she obliged. But we had to wait for her friend in the taxi. Yes, her friend was none other than the well wintered girl from before. It was like having good and evil either side of me in the back of the taxi.
Back in the house the two girls seemed content to giggle away with each other on the couch so I decided my night was complete and headed on to bed. Just after I slipped into bed, the door opened. I braced myself for whichever girl came in. I’ll leave you to decide who was behind the door
James Donoghue
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