Taming the Alien

‘We were somewhere around Barstow on the edge of the desert when the drugs began to take hold.’
(Opening lines of ‘Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas’)

‘You’re a cute hoor,’ said Pat.

‘What?’

‘The way you handled them cops at the station. Jaysus, they were eating outta yer hand. When did a policeman ever offer a cup o’ tea? I’ll never get over the bate of that … As I said, glic.’

‘Click?’

‘It’s the same as cute hoor, but slyer.’

‘But it’s a compliment?’

‘Is it?’

They were in The Quays pub on Quay Street. Lest you forgot, it said so above the door. Pat had told Brant that Brad Pitt had been in and that, ‘No more than Geldof, he was a bit shy of the soap ’n’ water.’

Brant exclaimed, ‘You can be one vicious bastard, you know!’

‘Ary, I’m only coddin’.’

Brant had come to Ireland for all sorts of reasons and curiosity was probably the best he’d articulated. Getting laid never came into it, but lo and behold, he was about to. They were drinking slow bottles of Guinness and Pat said, ‘There’s a wan over there has an eye for you.’

‘What?’

‘She has a mighty chest on her and a bit o’ mileage, but for all that …

‘What are you on about?’

Pat moved back from the bar, gave Brant the full Irish appraisal, then said, ‘I’d say you’re a holy terror for the women.’ And then he stepped over to the woman, had a few words and returned. ‘She thanks you kindly and a glass of sweet sherry would be grand.’

Brant took a look, not bad at all. A touch of the Margo Kidders … well, OK — Margo’s mother, but in prime shape. Course, the fact that she fancied Brant gave her bonus points all over the shop.

As Brant ordered, Pat said, ‘Tis what Connemara men do for penance.’

Yet again, Brant had no idea what he meant and dreaded trotting out, ‘What?’ yet again. What he’d do, he’d get two small cards printed,

1. Yellow

2. Red

Write in small letters ‘What?’ on the first, then ‘WOT?’ on the second. Jaysus, they’d think he was deaf. Scratch that. So he said, ‘What?’ And threw in, ‘Excuse me?’ for colour.

‘Connamara men, they drink sherry as penance.’ The sherry was placed on the counter and Pat said, ‘Well, go on, man, she can hardly whistle for it.’

He brought it over, said wittily, ‘Hi.’

She laughed and said, ‘I can see I’m not going to get a word in edgeways.’

‘What?’

‘Sit down there, you big lump — I’m Sheila.’

A while later, Pat came over, said, ‘I’ve lost me friggin’ lighter.’

‘The Zippo?’

‘Aye, blast it to hell, it had “1968” on the front.’

Sheila said, ‘Ask St Anthony.’

And Brant said, ‘Ask him what?’

Pat and Sheila loved that.