A History Of Great Mistakes

The luck of the Irish – pt 2
March 2, 2009, 11:35 pm
Filed under: Dublin | Tags: , , , , ,

(hang on – you almost missed the first part of this tale – don’t read the below before you’re up to speed!)

It was the Wednesday before my week off, and I was beginning to get more than a little nervous.

As I sat in my bedroom, I flicked through the brochures I’d picked up from the local travel agent, and wondered where I’d be ‘this time next week’. I stared longingly at pictures of snowboarders catching big air and girls grabbing the sun in skimpy bikinis.

For a moment I imagined my Thai waitress in a skimpy bikini.

Lost in thought about Thai waitresses in bikinis

Lost in thought about Thai waitresses in bikinis

I lay down on the bed and looked up at the ceiling. ‘What the hell is going on?’

My mobile went off – Lewis was calling.

“Hello mate” I said, “was a bit worried that everything was off – we haven’t heard from you in awhile!”

There was a familiar silence from the other end of the phone. I knew that silence well. It was the vaccum of guilt.

“Yeah… Listen mate, I’ve got some bad news…” replied Lewis.

And so, Lewis proceeded to tell me for the next hour how he’d planned to budget for the holiday, but had to replace the engine in his car, paint the house, wax his legs, buy some diamond shoes and many other excuses about how he had no cash. I stopped listening after a short while, and started to get very very very angry.

This week away with my mates was meant to be the stress relief I was in dire need of, and it was being snatched away from me in front of my ears. All I could think about was the new pair of swimming trunks I’d bought on the off chance we were going somewhere warm. I’d been hoping to pull in them. Or at the very least strut my stuff.

I looked down at my stomach. ‘Perhaps that was a bit of a lofty ambition anyway’ I thought, calming myself down as Lewis continued talking.

The phone call lasted for nearly half an hour, and many apologies came in my direction before it finished. Lewis, before hanging up, apologised profusely for the umpteenth time and vowed to make up for it in the near future.

And just like that, my week away was off, and my ear was red hot from excuses.

I sat up on the bed and shook my head. ‘Rat b@$tard‘ I thought. I let out a small sigh, resigned myself to my fate, got up and knocked on my brother’s door.

“Looks like the holiday is off” I said to the back of Dave’s head.

“Eh?” said Dave, spinning around in his seat, temporarily tearing himself away from Command and Conquer.

“Well, Lewis just called and basically said he’s broke.”

Before Dave had a chance to respond, my mobile went off again. This time it was Gez.

“Hello mate” I said, answering his call in a slightly crushed tone.

“CAN YOU BELIEVE WHAT THAT F@£KING B@$TARD HAS DONE?!?” screamed Gez down the phone.

“Not so much, no… Right royal f@£ker isn’t it…” I replied, walking out of Dave’s doorway.

“YOU’RE DAMN RIGHT IT’S A F@£KER! A F@£KER FOR HIM – I’M STILL GOING!” said Gez, still screaming.

My eyebrow raised slightly. “You’re still going?” I said, quizzically.

“Damn straight!” said Gez, now shouting. “Coming Pete?”

Now, there are times in your life where you’ll have to make tough decisions.

Whether you should try to fix a failing marriage, or leave and try to find happiness with someone else.

If you should tell your son or daughter the truth about their conception, or give them a more comforting image of love and forethought.

Tough decisions requiring great thought.

But this was not a tough decision time for me.

It was, in fact, the simplest decision I ever made.

“God yes!” I said, practically punching the sky.

“Right then!” said Gez, now only raising his voice slightly. “Where shall we go? I quite fancy Turkey… Very nice ladies in Turkey…”

Gez and I talked for a few minutes about different places we could go and hit upon a few ideas, most of which revolved around beer, sun and ladypersons. It was – to quote the great Bill and Ted – ‘a most excellent conversation’. At the end of it however, we were no closer to a destination.

“Hang on a minute mate” said Gez, mid boob discussion, “got another call coming through on the other line. Give you a callback in a moment.”

As I hung up the phone, I walked back towards Dave’s room, uplifted.

“Looks like it’s back on, but only me and Gez!” I announced in Dave’s still open doorway.

“Wahay!” said Dave, spinning round in his seat again. “So where are you off to?”

But before I could answer, my phone went off again.

It was Lewis.

“Hello Lew!” I said, strolling out of Dave’s doorway and back into my room. “How’s things?”

“Mate” said Lewis, in a slightly firm tone, “tell me you’re not going away with Gez. I’ve just spoken to him. Tell me it isn’t true.”

“Well,” I began “I’d love to tell you that, but…”

Lewis groaned. “I can’t believe it! It was my bloody idea and you’re both buggering off without me now!”

“To be fair mate… We were both more than up for the holiday with you… Just kind of happens that we’re also up for a holiday without you!” I said, stifling a small laugh.

“There must be some way around this… I mean… What about a holiday in Wales instead…?” pleaded Lewis.

“Yeeeeaaaahhh… Not really going to happen mate.” I smirked. “Still, if you could find some cash… I think we’d still be okay with you coming along with us…”

Then there was another familiar silence. A silence that felt a little like ‘there’s something I haven’t told you’.

“…I’ll see what I can do.” said Lewis, to my surprise. “I’ve got to make another call.”

I hung up, and wondered what Lewis had been holding back.

Roughly 25 minutes later, the phone rang. It was Gez.

“I have no idea what’s changed” Gez said in a quiet tone, “but now, he appears to be up for the holiday again. He’s even suggested Dublin, which isn’t a bad idea for the cash we have.”

“Dublin? Land of Guiness and Irish ladies?”

“Aye” said Gez.

“What a good idea.”

An hour or so later we’d arranged via interweb messenger to meet in Holyhead on Saturday and catch a ferry, on which Lewis had promised to explain his sudden about face…

1 Comment so far
Leave a comment

You look more drunk than contemplative on that picture! And man, Saturday cannot come soon enough :O!!! x

Comment by Anjii

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: