Bewleys, Wednesday, 10.30am
It’s always the same said Dry Cracker sharply, what do yous
expect, like hussies, all showing yourselves and your bits,
and then wonderin’ why yiz were being oogled.
Dry Cracker had strong views on these things what with her bits
not having seen daylight in years.
Cream Bun piped up – and what’s wrong with a bit of
topless sun worship on the continon’, or bottomless too
if it comes to that – when in Rome do as the Frenchies
do, that’s what I say. Anycase we’ve all got the same
bits in the sun, just that I’ve got bigger bits than most
she said, hooshin’ her bits back up to over the table.
You can say that again said Jam Doughnut, with a loud sugary guffaw
you show ‘em, and you did, every day, sure no wonder the waiters
wear shades all the time or they’d go blind. Probably go blind anyway.
The whole table of the Wednesday Morning Girls back from
Praia de Rocha roared laughing at the thought.
Dry Cracker, who had not travelled, sat red faced unable to say a
word, on account of having a mouthful of dry crackers.
Well I think you’re right said Custard Slice, live a bit, a touch of the Shirley Valentines does you good, let your hair, yes and your bits, down,
Custard Slice having let down her bits and a great deal more with
Sebastian on the last night of the holiday. Weak Tea, who had shared a
twin room with Custard Slice had caught a glance of her coming to bed
at six in the morning with her summer dress caught in the top of her big knickers, and hoped she hadn’t walked the prom all night looking like that. Weak Tea was a bit weak on these matters. On the continon’ for the first time, before this had got no further than Lough Derg. She found it all confusing. She had lay quietly in bed and said a little prayer for Custard Slice, who by this time was snoring, nearly dressed, and sleeping the sleep of the very, very drunk.
Here at the usual table in the corner by the church windows on this first Wednesday morning since the trip, Weak Tea was still confused, but had the good sense to say nothing, so she laughed when all the others laughed, unlike that Dry Cracker one. Weak Tea thought if God had wanted her to be like Cream Bun and Custard Slice she would have heard something. And she hadn’t heard anything since Lough Derg, and even then she wasn’t sure if she’d heard anything at all. Now, she wanted to ask for a chocolate éclair, live dangerously, but she wasn’t sure she was quite ready yet, so she just said quietly – I’ll have a tea, weak, please.
Carrot Cake, as usual brought her twenty twenty point of view to bear
on such discussions. A heavyweight if somewhat fruity view on matters of the flesh - a lush attitude to lust you might say, her behaviour in Lloret de Mar last year had been Olympian in terms of the waiter relay, many of whom had been lacking in the carrot department and not
fully aware of her enormous appetites, she was famously larger than life. She had not been able to go on this year’s trip as her ankle was in plaster where she had fallen off a barman who worked in Neary’s. Nevertheless she had something to say – listen to yerselves will yiz, moaning about a bit o’ fun. Where’s Holy Nora who was sat at this very table less than a year ago, where is she now I ask ye. Wouldn’t she rather be out chasing waiters, not that she knew one end of a waiter from the other, she’d ‘a said live life while you’re alive, ‘cos you won’t be livin’ much when you’re dead - an’ then she’d a said three hail marys and a glory- be for thinking such loose thoughts
They all stopped and thought quietly.
They knew she was right as they thought of poor Holy Nora less than a year dead. Sure she was more angel than divil but she had a bit of life in her when she was alive and had no life in her now that she was dead.
‘Clare T’ God felt moved to say - ‘clare t’ God, I think you’re right
there Carrot, we’ll start to live, tomorrow.
Dry Cracker thought …maybe with a bit o’ jam or butter…..
Weak Tea said to herself…..I’ll have that chocolate éclair….tomorrow
Two Sugars who had said nothing up to this, said defiantly………
…..three sugars please
Martin Swords September 2009
