Tuesday, December 30, 2008

Here's to you, crazy Hillary. Jesus loves you...

The 30th of December. Ah yes. The night of one of Radge's greatest romantical misadventures.

Seven years ago it was. I was a pup at 23, a pup, an innocent who had all too rarely crossed swords with the female kind. 2001 was one year into my working life but it was still the era of 32A, of boozing and the 'staring wall' and freeing up my bed for the lads and their conquests. I, you see, got none.

None.

Barren as they come, old 2001, but there was to be one saving hurrah before January came with all its craven promises. It came in McGowans.

We lived fairly close to the Coppers of the Northside, so would venture forth from time to time to partake of the late drinking and shit music. This night it was myself, Johnny, Kev and Austin.

I think it started in Hedigans but they fucked us out early, so we did a headcount and got a taxi. I remember Rick Astley was playing above our heads in glorious stereo, so I frowned, died a little bit inside and ordered a pint.

We went upstairs where the ladies lay waiting. Waiting for what, I hadn't a clue. I was just happy to mind the jackets and become one with the bathroom floor later.

Then she appeared.

I was talking to Austin at the time. When she approached I was full sure she had him in his sights. He's a publican, an older man in a peer's body, so I figured a lady of her obvious vintage would look to him for maturity and coitus. Not so. She dismissed him enthusiastically and clung herself to me like a wrinkly adhesive.

She wanted to know everything about me. Where I was from, what I did, this and those. In my naivete I thought at the time she was... well... I didn't know what to think but I was on my way and glad of the attention.

Then she kissed me. "This is new," I thought, unfamiliar had I been to the female advance for a long time previous.

"But wait," I thought on, "she's old enough to be..."

"I'm 40," she said. "How old are you?"

"I'm 29," I lied, like she cared.

I was getting used to her very quickly indeed, a story to tell the boys at the least, a fucking bit of action, finally, at the most.

"So tell me about yourself," I swarthed, suddenly comfortable in my dotage.

"Well, I'm Hillary. I'm married, well, I'm separated. I'm here with my nephews."

I saw three lads looking on, pretending not to be looking on. They were obviously older than me.

"Your nephews?"

"Yeah, my nephews. I go out with them all the time. You've bleedin' gorgeous eyes..."

I was getting a bit anxious, my gorgeous eyes looking to my boys for safety but they were nowhere to be seen. Austin had long since fled.

"Yeah, they're me nephews anyway. I like goin' out with them. A bit of fun now that I'm not with that bollix of a husband. Twenty five years I was with him."

"Twenty five years you s..."

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

I lied again.

"I do, yeah. She's at home."

"What would she make of you kissing older women in McGowans?"

"Well she's very permissive about stuff like that." I was getting confused. I had to invent a whole person in miliseconds.

"Is she permissive about anything else?"

She kissed me again. I broke away from her subtly.

I was doing the maths.

"Just that if your girlfriend wouldn't mind, I could come back to your place. I'd be gone in the mornin', just a bit of fun, like."

"Ah I don't think she'd like that now."

"Ah go on for the craic," and then the killer line, "you could do a lot worse than old Hillary."

If ever a sentence whacked me back to sobriety, that was the one. I put on my jacket, figured the lads could look after their own fucking coats for a change, and legged it.

50, easily.

21 comments:

gimme a minute said...

You swarthed?

Superb.

Radge said...

She liked it, anyway.

Holemaster said...

This brings me back to Michael Jackson in Cork in 1988. I was 17 and travelled down on a coach with a friend for the weekend. We befriended two "ladies" on the way down and were totaled by the time we hit Cork. We managed to escape and spent most of the concert the next day seeing them and running away. I saw one of them a year or so later in Dublin with her kids. She was probably only 25 but she was ancient to me.

Susan said...

Oh Lord. "Forty" and "wrinkly" in the same post. I need a drink and a good cry.

It wasn't Hillary Clinton, was it?

Radge said...

Holemaster - the whole terrifying episode only registered the next day. The remorse! Still, I wouldn't swap it and I'm guessing you wouldn't either.

Susan - No. I swore never again after Barbara Bush.

hope said...

Hey Susan, did you know chocolate keeps wrinkles at bay? ;)

And to think women are raised to believe that no man can stop a feminine advance unless she has the plague. :)

Okay, I have to ask before the year is over. What's with the new "Radge picture"? I'm not sure if it's a "happy to be home" thing or "serial killer at the top of the stairs pursuing the dumb blonde who went looking to see what the noise was."

Show some pity. These meds are making me nuts.

Have a wonder New Year...and be sure to report back as it will be a lot more colorful than mine.

Radge said...

Thanks Hope. The picture is... well... I like it is all.

Susan said...

I wondered about the photo too...getting that serial killer impression that Hope did.

But then I liked it; it suggests a new adventure somehow, or shining a light in dark places.

Dunno. But I want to hear more about Barbara Bush all of a sudden.

Radge said...

That goes with me to the grave, Susan. Right - I'm off to meet Snakevalley in the pub. Happy New Year!

narocroc said...

Ah I know McGowan's. Met a lovely young physio there onceuponatime. I may well post about the experience someday!! Merry new year Sir Radge!!!

Radge said...

Narocroc, you must! The more tales about McGowans the better. I'm all out.

And many happy returns!

John Braine said...

Hey Radge. Forgot to subscribe after I last read this, just caught up with the last 10 posts or so. Great stuff. Especially good old Hilary.

Radge said...

Thanks a lot John. I'll be on to you with an offer for the footspa.

narocroc said...

http://narocroc.wordpress.com/2009/01/02/ill-never-forget-whatsername/

Medbh said...

Yeah, we should totally lock the bitches up when they pass the expiration date.
What's that again?
30?
20?

Radge said...

As I get older, it gets younger, Medbh.

Maimie said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
B said...

hahaha

oldest I had was one who was 22 at oxegen 08... although I would consider that a success, mainly cos of the backstory.

Radge said...

B - are you ten? If so, you're a legend.

B said...

no :(

trust me though, the back story makes me legendary.

--V-- said...

Whoa. Um...good times?