Myself and Brigita are in the kitchen, planning Episode 3 of I’m Irish, Get Me Out Of Here, when the bell rings.
It’s a shock.
–Do we have a bell? I ask.
Brigita smiles, but it’s a serious question. No one has ever rung the bell before. Neither of the Aislings is far enough into their de-Irish training to even think about answering the door. Anyway, they’re out, on a meet and greet. They started calling leaving the house ‘doing a meet and greet’ last week, when they went down to the Spar to get milk and phone credit.
Anyway, I get up and I go to the door. I take it a step further: I open it. And I see, which of the following? a) Muammar Gaddafi, b) the Guards, or c) Michael Jackson?
You’re ahead of me. You chose ‘the Guards’, even before I’d finished writing ‘Michael Jackson’. And you’re right. It’s the Guards. Not all of them. Just two. Only one of them is in uniform but the other one is so obviously an Irish cop, I won’t bother trying to describe him. It would be like describing a loaf of bread. ‘Well, it’s soft and crusty and rectangular and –’ You’d stop because it would feel a bit pointless.
Anyway, they’re standing there, the woman in uniform and the man, soft and crusty and rectangular, in very plain clothes.
–Hi, says the woman.
Is there any other country in the world where the cops would talk to you like that? I love Ireland.
–Where are they? says the rectangular man. –And don’t give me a smart fuckin’ answer.
Is there any other country in the world – blah, blah, blah?
I’d better explain.
But before I do that, I’ll give you the answer I gave him.
–Who?
Apparently, that’s one of the answers he’s warned me against, so he shoves me – I’m not making this up – and calls me ‘a smart buck’.
Now, the explanation. ‘They’ are the Aislings and the Feds are after them because they bought drugs on the bus from my old school bud, Johnny. The transaction is a viral hit, viewed by millions of people – worldwide. Questions have been asked in our national parliament, the Dáil. (‘Dáil’ is an ancient Irish word. No one knows what it means.)
Here are the questions:
1. Is the Minister aware that drugs are being openly bought and sold on this great city’s buses? – Martin O’Halloran (FG).
2. Is the Minister aware that this outrageous behavior is being flaunted and viewed worldwide? - John Paul O’Keefe (FF);
3. Is the Minister aware that there’s great value to be had on the 40A? – Liam ‘The Crow’ Flaherty (Independent);
4. Is the Minister going to actually do something about it, or wha’? – Derek ‘The Dare’ O’Hare (SF).
My bet is that it’s Question 4 that has brought the custodians of law and order to our front door. But they’re past the front door by now. They’re in the kitchen.
–Do you have a warrant, like? Brigita asks.
–He invited us, says the soft and rectangular man, and he points at me.
He doesn’t have to point very far because his arm is around my neck. I’m in the mood for lists, so there are four things I want to draw your attention to here. a. He’s very rectangular, but he’s not actually soft – at all. b. His partner isn’t rectangular but, even though I’m choking, she looks quite soft and kind of culchie cute; c. Unknown to them and, actually, unknown to me, we’re filming everything; and, d. that would explain why Brigita looks quite pleased to see me being strangled and why she hasn’t ordered him to stop.
So, everything’s great. I don’t know it, but I feel it. And when the Guards let go of me and leave a few minutes later, once Brigita has convinced them that a. the Aislings aren’t in, and that b. even if they were in, they wouldn’t be in here, because they don’t live with us, we watch the footage of the Guards and me, and I know it: Episode 3 of I’m Irish, Get Me Out Of Here, ‘Lesson Three: Buying Clothes’, will be even bigger than Episode 2.
So, the next day bright and early – well, bright and Aisling early: 4 p. m. – we locate the Aislings deep in some D. J.’s bed and Brigita persuades them to face the day.
–GET UP!
–OhmyGod!
Then, followed by some strange twit who is both presenter and cameraman for an RTÉ youth programme called Hey! and a two-man, one-woman team from Sky News, and a big blue car full of big blue Guards drinking pink smoothies, we go de-Irish shopping with the Aislings.
Brigita hands each of them a tenner.
–Penney’s, she says.
Continued next month
© Roddy Doyle 2011
