19 March 2013
645
R. Linda:
I have got a lot of private correspondence from me story of the two Charlies (see blog post of 17 March 2013, The Two Charlies Go To Belfast) and I got to thinking of me trip not that long ago and of an event that was rather crazy and a wee bit similar.
As you know at night after dinner at whatever castle we were staying at, I would either slip away to the village or the downstairs bar for a few nightcaps. But there was one particular day we had travelled to County Mayo and our driver had for one last time tried his damn best to convert us to be better Catholics (those of us who were), convert the lone Baptist to give that nonsense up for the true religion of Rome, and for the two Lebanese Christians to let go the Greek influence and get a more Vatican approach to the old belief system. This dogma was exhaustively tiring and by the time we arrived at our castle for the night, I for one was done with religious talk as was me wife. But as things would have it, at dinner, the parents, hers and me own were not finished with it and the discussion went on.
Several times I muttered under me breath I needed a drink a very stiff drink to which me wife overheard and agreed that sounded like a novel idea. Novel because the entire trip she had no idea of me slipping out once she was asleep for a round or two or three in whatever local village was nearby.
So we somehow managed to disengage ourselves from the ongoing conversation, which after dinner had moved on into the lounge. We feigned sleep and so convinced the other four we were off to bed. But that's not where we went. Being entirely unfamiliar with that part of Ireland, we stopped at the concierge and asked where be a local watering hole we could imbibe at.
He was most helpful and told us of one not far, with "plenty of local flavour," we could take one of the golf carts, "joost sign dis form and dey be rioght out front dere." And so we did, we had the directions and off we went laughing at our deviousness.
We had no trouble finding the place, it was the only pub on a very short village street. We left the cart and walked inside thinking, local Irish music, you know a few townsmen with fiddle, tin whistle, bodhran, that sort of thing, but as we walked in we knew instantly we were the only tourists there, everyone was dressed like they had earned a pint after a good day's "harvest" as Tonya put it. They stopped their chat and all eyes were upon us as we forced feeble smiles and moved further inside near to the sound of crickets chirping. I tell ya!
There was a footy game going and it was Manchester U and Liverpool and oh my but the quips and barbs being traded. Lucky for Tonya she has a hard time with the Mayo accent she thinks it be very thick Irish and can't understand a word. Well, I know a thing or two about footy and I used to be a Liverpool fan, so I got up there and joined in a bit thinking they were all Liverpool fans, but found out quickly the entire pub but meself were cheering on Man U. Man U be me team now, so I had to switch gears and that was embarrassing as I realised it, but too late. They were all staring at yours truly and so I began to bring me enthusiasm down a few notches at a time until I was saying nothing.
Well, I strolled the wife over to a table and sat her down as about six of the patrons also strolled over with us and stood around. So I do know what the two Charlies were experiencing in Belfast. I had made it clear I was a Liverpool fan and they made it clear they were for Man U and never the twain shall meet. It was uncomfortable for about a minute until someone asked where I, specifically was from. I told them and they were like, "Ach! A nortern mun." I quickly told them that me wife was from America in the hopes they would find that more palatable. They did. They were all about her and she was having a hell of a time with their accents because those accents had sprinkled in a good deal of Gaelic and I was the instant interpreter for her and then for them because they didn't understand a word of American English. I tell ya it was hairy and busy all at the same time because I be not versed but in a few words of the Gaelic language.
I finally got an order in for us and the bunch around us had swelled in ranks to at least fifteen and someone had decided we were on our honeymoon. They called for a round of Guinness to celebrate our love and life together as they were all speaking at once and there was no way to correct them, and of course, Tonya was all in wonder of what the good news was that everyone was so suddenly animated over. Oi!
The Guinness was poured and handed out like an assembly line, no waiting for the foam to settle, no none of that, the drinking was to start in earnest so no time. They all toasted and cheered us and Tonya's eyes were really big with an amused expression on her face at all this cheerful attention that she had notta clue what it was about.
"A round on the hoose!" Someone shouted and then to me I should get up and toast me lady and I did with some sappy sentence and we drank and then another round was ordered and I was told to do a better toast to Tonya ("make yer Irishness proud lad"), so I made up another sappy toast and we drank again, and we must have done this for 15 rounds. By the time number 16 came up I was sitting not standing. Tonya was all glassy-eyed from the Guinness and trying to hold down belching a few Guinness burps.
"Git on oop 'ere fair ladee and gee a toast ta yer hoosband, itz yer foogin' honeymoon sos make da moost of it."
Some of the words Tonya caught and she got the idea and being too buzzed to care, they helped her up and she sort of held her jar up with the help of two men who held the bottom so it stayed in the air, and she slurred a bunch of words I can't tell you what they were, but they cheered even louder when she was done and we all drank toast number 22!
But we weren't done, they decided Tonya should toast me in Gaelic, yes they did. And while she stumbled with the words they seemed satisfied she had got the toast so helping her up on top of the bar (oi, oi, oi!) she swayed and said, "I hold Gabriel Aloysius O'Sullivan responsible for me giving birth to ponies," or some such craziness. "Whadda I say?" She would ask and they'd lie like dogs that she said, "I love Gabriel Aloysius O'Sullivan and only him!" Each toast in Gaelic got more and more ridiculous. And they enjoyed the heck out of this charade.
As it turned out the footy game was forgotten because we were the game. I tell ya, and by the time the fun started winding down we had gone from Guinness to Paddy's Whiskey to calling shots to where I was rather shocked me wife was all about drinking 25 Irishmen under the table. I told her to stop because I was so wasted I didn't think I could find the golf cart let alone the castle, and me carrying her on me back, well it was going to be a long hard slog back. But she continued until she near passed out. Not a pretty sight, either one of us, but the crowd had made us honourary regulars of Bannigan's Pub.
And of course, when I dragged the wife outside the golf cart was gone. Where it went to I did not find out until the next day. Seems I forgot to put the brake on and it had taken itself to the end of the block where I did not think to look. Oi!
I remember half carrying, half dragging Tonya and then us both falling down in laughter and then not being able to get up.
"They'll find us here in the morning still trashed," she would say and start laughing hysterically. That wasn't funny but her laughter was and so the two of us (if anyone was looking) would have thought us morons of the highest degree. I dunno.
Somehow I made it back to the castle. The concierge was the only one up when I dragged the unconscious wife in with me. I couldn't get me words to form a sentence, though I tried. I drew a diagram of a sort where the golf cart was last seen, but he had no clue what I was trying to tell him. Though he did ask me for the keys, which I gave him. I can only think he thought the cart was out front, but well I tried, I really did, but well . . .
So besides losing the golf cart the next morning, I was sporting a hangover to rival all hangovers and the piece de resistance -- one huge pub bill. Yup. Not to mention the strange looks from both sets of parents wondering how one glass of wine at dinner could affect the two of us so adversely. Oh yeah fun.
Gabe
Copyright © 2013 All rights reserved
R. Linda:
I have got a lot of private correspondence from me story of the two Charlies (see blog post of 17 March 2013, The Two Charlies Go To Belfast) and I got to thinking of me trip not that long ago and of an event that was rather crazy and a wee bit similar.
As you know at night after dinner at whatever castle we were staying at, I would either slip away to the village or the downstairs bar for a few nightcaps. But there was one particular day we had travelled to County Mayo and our driver had for one last time tried his damn best to convert us to be better Catholics (those of us who were), convert the lone Baptist to give that nonsense up for the true religion of Rome, and for the two Lebanese Christians to let go the Greek influence and get a more Vatican approach to the old belief system. This dogma was exhaustively tiring and by the time we arrived at our castle for the night, I for one was done with religious talk as was me wife. But as things would have it, at dinner, the parents, hers and me own were not finished with it and the discussion went on.
Several times I muttered under me breath I needed a drink a very stiff drink to which me wife overheard and agreed that sounded like a novel idea. Novel because the entire trip she had no idea of me slipping out once she was asleep for a round or two or three in whatever local village was nearby.
So we somehow managed to disengage ourselves from the ongoing conversation, which after dinner had moved on into the lounge. We feigned sleep and so convinced the other four we were off to bed. But that's not where we went. Being entirely unfamiliar with that part of Ireland, we stopped at the concierge and asked where be a local watering hole we could imbibe at.
He was most helpful and told us of one not far, with "plenty of local flavour," we could take one of the golf carts, "joost sign dis form and dey be rioght out front dere." And so we did, we had the directions and off we went laughing at our deviousness.
We had no trouble finding the place, it was the only pub on a very short village street. We left the cart and walked inside thinking, local Irish music, you know a few townsmen with fiddle, tin whistle, bodhran, that sort of thing, but as we walked in we knew instantly we were the only tourists there, everyone was dressed like they had earned a pint after a good day's "harvest" as Tonya put it. They stopped their chat and all eyes were upon us as we forced feeble smiles and moved further inside near to the sound of crickets chirping. I tell ya!
There was a footy game going and it was Manchester U and Liverpool and oh my but the quips and barbs being traded. Lucky for Tonya she has a hard time with the Mayo accent she thinks it be very thick Irish and can't understand a word. Well, I know a thing or two about footy and I used to be a Liverpool fan, so I got up there and joined in a bit thinking they were all Liverpool fans, but found out quickly the entire pub but meself were cheering on Man U. Man U be me team now, so I had to switch gears and that was embarrassing as I realised it, but too late. They were all staring at yours truly and so I began to bring me enthusiasm down a few notches at a time until I was saying nothing.
Well, I strolled the wife over to a table and sat her down as about six of the patrons also strolled over with us and stood around. So I do know what the two Charlies were experiencing in Belfast. I had made it clear I was a Liverpool fan and they made it clear they were for Man U and never the twain shall meet. It was uncomfortable for about a minute until someone asked where I, specifically was from. I told them and they were like, "Ach! A nortern mun." I quickly told them that me wife was from America in the hopes they would find that more palatable. They did. They were all about her and she was having a hell of a time with their accents because those accents had sprinkled in a good deal of Gaelic and I was the instant interpreter for her and then for them because they didn't understand a word of American English. I tell ya it was hairy and busy all at the same time because I be not versed but in a few words of the Gaelic language.
I finally got an order in for us and the bunch around us had swelled in ranks to at least fifteen and someone had decided we were on our honeymoon. They called for a round of Guinness to celebrate our love and life together as they were all speaking at once and there was no way to correct them, and of course, Tonya was all in wonder of what the good news was that everyone was so suddenly animated over. Oi!
The Guinness was poured and handed out like an assembly line, no waiting for the foam to settle, no none of that, the drinking was to start in earnest so no time. They all toasted and cheered us and Tonya's eyes were really big with an amused expression on her face at all this cheerful attention that she had notta clue what it was about.
"A round on the hoose!" Someone shouted and then to me I should get up and toast me lady and I did with some sappy sentence and we drank and then another round was ordered and I was told to do a better toast to Tonya ("make yer Irishness proud lad"), so I made up another sappy toast and we drank again, and we must have done this for 15 rounds. By the time number 16 came up I was sitting not standing. Tonya was all glassy-eyed from the Guinness and trying to hold down belching a few Guinness burps.
"Git on oop 'ere fair ladee and gee a toast ta yer hoosband, itz yer foogin' honeymoon sos make da moost of it."
Some of the words Tonya caught and she got the idea and being too buzzed to care, they helped her up and she sort of held her jar up with the help of two men who held the bottom so it stayed in the air, and she slurred a bunch of words I can't tell you what they were, but they cheered even louder when she was done and we all drank toast number 22!
But we weren't done, they decided Tonya should toast me in Gaelic, yes they did. And while she stumbled with the words they seemed satisfied she had got the toast so helping her up on top of the bar (oi, oi, oi!) she swayed and said, "I hold Gabriel Aloysius O'Sullivan responsible for me giving birth to ponies," or some such craziness. "Whadda I say?" She would ask and they'd lie like dogs that she said, "I love Gabriel Aloysius O'Sullivan and only him!" Each toast in Gaelic got more and more ridiculous. And they enjoyed the heck out of this charade.
As it turned out the footy game was forgotten because we were the game. I tell ya, and by the time the fun started winding down we had gone from Guinness to Paddy's Whiskey to calling shots to where I was rather shocked me wife was all about drinking 25 Irishmen under the table. I told her to stop because I was so wasted I didn't think I could find the golf cart let alone the castle, and me carrying her on me back, well it was going to be a long hard slog back. But she continued until she near passed out. Not a pretty sight, either one of us, but the crowd had made us honourary regulars of Bannigan's Pub.
And of course, when I dragged the wife outside the golf cart was gone. Where it went to I did not find out until the next day. Seems I forgot to put the brake on and it had taken itself to the end of the block where I did not think to look. Oi!
I remember half carrying, half dragging Tonya and then us both falling down in laughter and then not being able to get up.
"They'll find us here in the morning still trashed," she would say and start laughing hysterically. That wasn't funny but her laughter was and so the two of us (if anyone was looking) would have thought us morons of the highest degree. I dunno.
Somehow I made it back to the castle. The concierge was the only one up when I dragged the unconscious wife in with me. I couldn't get me words to form a sentence, though I tried. I drew a diagram of a sort where the golf cart was last seen, but he had no clue what I was trying to tell him. Though he did ask me for the keys, which I gave him. I can only think he thought the cart was out front, but well I tried, I really did, but well . . .
So besides losing the golf cart the next morning, I was sporting a hangover to rival all hangovers and the piece de resistance -- one huge pub bill. Yup. Not to mention the strange looks from both sets of parents wondering how one glass of wine at dinner could affect the two of us so adversely. Oh yeah fun.
Gabe
Copyright © 2013 All rights reserved
