24 May 2011
406
R. Linda:
I WAS minding me own business this afternoon when Maureen came up to my desk, sat herself down and started yakking about Patrick and Anne to me. I informed her AGAIN I wasn't interested in becoming the office dating service and if we could drop all that, it would be much appreciated. But no, she's a typical Irish woman and NO be not a word in her vocabulary, nor remotely familiar. I don't think she even knows how you spell it. Anyway, we went around in harsh whispers about this "situation" (her word) and we stopped when we saw one of the subjects of our disagreement on his way over to my desk.
Acting like we were conferring over some news business we made like we were surprised to see the laddie. I know what you're thinking and you'd be correct, we were indeed practising the old Irish art of deception and lying. And the shame of this be, we were both stone sober while putting it into practice.
"Ye know Maureen, I was over at yer station lookin' fer ye befur an' I happened to see the photoe of yer sistir Rose, and she be quite a looker. I haf bean meanin' ta ask ya if she's seein' anyone."
WOW. I was totally motionless. I couldn't move for the life of me. It was like I was mesmerised by a snake. ROSE? Hard drinking, hard-nosed ROSE? What was he thinking? I guess Maureen had the same thoughts because she also was shocked still and then after some clearing of the throat she ventured to find her voice and sanity and approach the question head-on.
"Em . . . Patrick," she smiled weakly, "ye aren't really in the market fer an Irish gale now arr ye now?" She looked at him intently to gauge his true reaction.
"But I om. After the date Gabriel set me up wit, I tink I should stick to me own, ya knoe? Not dat I didn't appreciate all ye did fer me dare Gabe, but . . ."
"I know," I said, "she wasn't Carrie Bradshaw."
He shrugged.
"Well, dere Patrick, dere be a few tings ya should know boot me sistir Rose ya should. First, she's lookin' fer long term. Ya git me drift the M word. Second she wants a laddie wit a job and dat ye 'ave, she also like moost of us Irish women wants a gent wit sum property she does."
He interrupted her to tell her he did have a house back in County Clare, it had been his father's and since the two brothers had inherited the sheep dip business from his grandda, his da left HIM the house. The sister having married well and taking his widowed Mam to live with her. Yup, married up. A pub owner. What can I say?
"Oh, doo ye now? Well, be it a tidy sorta place?"
"It needs some werk, but it be mine and I haf a few acres wit it."
"Well, fer me sistir ye'll need ta wallpaper and paint, git it lookin' like an Irish palace of sorts. Ye can do dat?"
He thought a moment and nodded, but the nod wasn't a sure thing nod. I rubbed me face in my hands as if trying to wake up and make this all go away, but no, no they were still there.
"OK Patrick, maybe she'd like ta do her own decoratin' ya tink Maureen?" I interjected.
He scratched his head in thought. Yee-ah.
"Another ting, Rose expects ya ta keep yersel employed and gitten raises and the soouch. Ya tinkin' dis place be worth yer stickin' round instead of endin' oop on the dole?"
"Oh yeah," he said a little too quickly.
"And," I said, "if I may, Rose likes snappy dressers she duz. Ye might take me advice aboot pickin' up a copy of GQ and den tryin' a few styles dere Patrick. The men here are a wee bit more stylin den back home ya knoe, and well, clothes do turn a gale's eye."
He crinkled up his nose. I knew right then and there his Mam was the primary buyer of his clothing. Oi.
"And dat's anoter ting dere Patrick, I don't tink Rose or any gale will want to hear aboot yer mam and wot a good cook she be. Actually, da less ya say da better it'll go," I said, but Maureen interrupted me.
"Actually if ya act like she's dead and like you never had one, even better!"
His eyes got very big in his head as he looked at her, her being very bright and animated.
Oh God, I thought to meself, this is not going well.
"Oh and Patrick, a note from da dry run date da utter night, you were very charmin' ya were. Ya need to keep dat charm button turned on. Rose be one will make ye werk fer attention and ya need to talk moostly boot Rose and her fumily, forgit yer own unless she asks and then keep it to a minimum of intel."
He nodded, but I saw he wasn't sure he liked all that.
"Ye need to take her not to a pub. Me sistir be a heavy drinker she be and believe it or not, she'll drink ya under da table, so take her anywhere but a pub."
Patrick's eyes got like slits in his head. What no pub date? Yeah, I was afraid of that, THAT was where he was going.
"Ya need ta be charmin' and a wee bit romantic, ye need to have the craic in ya so ya kin break da ice and ya need to be her protector sort as well. All dis ye 'ave to be fer me sistir ta even notice ya." Maureen sighed. "Oh, an' one moore ting, don't ya dare go on aboot footy, fer sure you'll lose er'.
Patrick swallowed hard on THAT.
"Well, was good talkin' wit ya boat, I'll let ye knoe wot I decide on yer sistir, Maureen."
With that, he was gone.
"Well Maureen, ye sold yer sistir as she be, but I don't tink he's buyin'."
"Of course he's not, I will git his good lookin' arse set up wit Anne Shields it be the last ting I do."
"Are you tellin' me ye set him all dose conditions purposely so he'd 'ave second taughts?" I was appalled she'd go to such lengths and on her sister too.
"No, was the bloody truth all a it. Ya know Rose, she wants all dat an' moore. I tell ya, Gabe, if dis ting wit Anne duz not werk out, den I will do me bloody best fer Rose, but ya knoe," she made a face of uncertainty, "Patrick dere . . . well I tink he's moore on da search fer a one night stand I do."
I had to laugh.
"And Anne Shields would be a one-night stand? I don't tink so. She may be a Carrie Bradshaw clone, but she's got some smarts dere. She's lasted quite a long time from the Scott barrage of flowers, cards, all of it and not given old Scotty da time of day, an' YOU tink she's gonna give it oop to Patrick dere?"
"Yup, I do." She said, and walked away.
I swear I do not understand women, especially Irish women. I am not sure what Maureen has up her sleeve and WHY she's so hot to get Anne hooked up with poor unsuspecting Patrick. Oh yeah, there's a lot about Anne I haven't told ya yet, and Maureen for that matter.
Gabe
Copyright © 2011 All rights reserved
R. Linda:
I WAS minding me own business this afternoon when Maureen came up to my desk, sat herself down and started yakking about Patrick and Anne to me. I informed her AGAIN I wasn't interested in becoming the office dating service and if we could drop all that, it would be much appreciated. But no, she's a typical Irish woman and NO be not a word in her vocabulary, nor remotely familiar. I don't think she even knows how you spell it. Anyway, we went around in harsh whispers about this "situation" (her word) and we stopped when we saw one of the subjects of our disagreement on his way over to my desk.
Acting like we were conferring over some news business we made like we were surprised to see the laddie. I know what you're thinking and you'd be correct, we were indeed practising the old Irish art of deception and lying. And the shame of this be, we were both stone sober while putting it into practice.
"Ye know Maureen, I was over at yer station lookin' fer ye befur an' I happened to see the photoe of yer sistir Rose, and she be quite a looker. I haf bean meanin' ta ask ya if she's seein' anyone."
WOW. I was totally motionless. I couldn't move for the life of me. It was like I was mesmerised by a snake. ROSE? Hard drinking, hard-nosed ROSE? What was he thinking? I guess Maureen had the same thoughts because she also was shocked still and then after some clearing of the throat she ventured to find her voice and sanity and approach the question head-on.
"Em . . . Patrick," she smiled weakly, "ye aren't really in the market fer an Irish gale now arr ye now?" She looked at him intently to gauge his true reaction.
"But I om. After the date Gabriel set me up wit, I tink I should stick to me own, ya knoe? Not dat I didn't appreciate all ye did fer me dare Gabe, but . . ."
"I know," I said, "she wasn't Carrie Bradshaw."
He shrugged.
"Well, dere Patrick, dere be a few tings ya should know boot me sistir Rose ya should. First, she's lookin' fer long term. Ya git me drift the M word. Second she wants a laddie wit a job and dat ye 'ave, she also like moost of us Irish women wants a gent wit sum property she does."
He interrupted her to tell her he did have a house back in County Clare, it had been his father's and since the two brothers had inherited the sheep dip business from his grandda, his da left HIM the house. The sister having married well and taking his widowed Mam to live with her. Yup, married up. A pub owner. What can I say?
"Oh, doo ye now? Well, be it a tidy sorta place?"
"It needs some werk, but it be mine and I haf a few acres wit it."
"Well, fer me sistir ye'll need ta wallpaper and paint, git it lookin' like an Irish palace of sorts. Ye can do dat?"
He thought a moment and nodded, but the nod wasn't a sure thing nod. I rubbed me face in my hands as if trying to wake up and make this all go away, but no, no they were still there.
"OK Patrick, maybe she'd like ta do her own decoratin' ya tink Maureen?" I interjected.
He scratched his head in thought. Yee-ah.
"Another ting, Rose expects ya ta keep yersel employed and gitten raises and the soouch. Ya tinkin' dis place be worth yer stickin' round instead of endin' oop on the dole?"
"Oh yeah," he said a little too quickly.
"And," I said, "if I may, Rose likes snappy dressers she duz. Ye might take me advice aboot pickin' up a copy of GQ and den tryin' a few styles dere Patrick. The men here are a wee bit more stylin den back home ya knoe, and well, clothes do turn a gale's eye."
He crinkled up his nose. I knew right then and there his Mam was the primary buyer of his clothing. Oi.
"And dat's anoter ting dere Patrick, I don't tink Rose or any gale will want to hear aboot yer mam and wot a good cook she be. Actually, da less ya say da better it'll go," I said, but Maureen interrupted me.
"Actually if ya act like she's dead and like you never had one, even better!"
His eyes got very big in his head as he looked at her, her being very bright and animated.
Oh God, I thought to meself, this is not going well.
"Oh and Patrick, a note from da dry run date da utter night, you were very charmin' ya were. Ya need to keep dat charm button turned on. Rose be one will make ye werk fer attention and ya need to talk moostly boot Rose and her fumily, forgit yer own unless she asks and then keep it to a minimum of intel."
He nodded, but I saw he wasn't sure he liked all that.
"Ye need to take her not to a pub. Me sistir be a heavy drinker she be and believe it or not, she'll drink ya under da table, so take her anywhere but a pub."
Patrick's eyes got like slits in his head. What no pub date? Yeah, I was afraid of that, THAT was where he was going.
"Ya need ta be charmin' and a wee bit romantic, ye need to have the craic in ya so ya kin break da ice and ya need to be her protector sort as well. All dis ye 'ave to be fer me sistir ta even notice ya." Maureen sighed. "Oh, an' one moore ting, don't ya dare go on aboot footy, fer sure you'll lose er'.
Patrick swallowed hard on THAT.
"Well, was good talkin' wit ya boat, I'll let ye knoe wot I decide on yer sistir, Maureen."
With that, he was gone.
"Well Maureen, ye sold yer sistir as she be, but I don't tink he's buyin'."
"Of course he's not, I will git his good lookin' arse set up wit Anne Shields it be the last ting I do."
"Are you tellin' me ye set him all dose conditions purposely so he'd 'ave second taughts?" I was appalled she'd go to such lengths and on her sister too.
"No, was the bloody truth all a it. Ya know Rose, she wants all dat an' moore. I tell ya, Gabe, if dis ting wit Anne duz not werk out, den I will do me bloody best fer Rose, but ya knoe," she made a face of uncertainty, "Patrick dere . . . well I tink he's moore on da search fer a one night stand I do."
I had to laugh.
"And Anne Shields would be a one-night stand? I don't tink so. She may be a Carrie Bradshaw clone, but she's got some smarts dere. She's lasted quite a long time from the Scott barrage of flowers, cards, all of it and not given old Scotty da time of day, an' YOU tink she's gonna give it oop to Patrick dere?"
"Yup, I do." She said, and walked away.
I swear I do not understand women, especially Irish women. I am not sure what Maureen has up her sleeve and WHY she's so hot to get Anne hooked up with poor unsuspecting Patrick. Oh yeah, there's a lot about Anne I haven't told ya yet, and Maureen for that matter.
Gabe
Copyright © 2011 All rights reserved
8 comments:
Oh do tell!
Dating service or fiasco?LMAO
Thank God you saved Patrick from making a huge mistake. Irish women are a no-no. And if Anne Shields is a true Carrie Bradshaw than I want to meet her!
Now see here, I'd a thought your type would have been Samantha Jones. Wait a minute, it's bad enough I know who Samantha Jones be, but how do you know who Carrie Bradshaw is?
GOOD QUESTION
I want to meet Patrick forget about Anne Shields LOL
i smells me a cougar lookin fer young meat. telly paddric he bettah watchie out hehee
what's the level after cougar? That's where I am.LMAO
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