by Paul Howard
I actually felt a bit bad for her, roysh, so the next morning, I decide to head out to her gaff in Rathgar, just to, like, tell her I thought she was in the roysh, about time someone put Claire in her place, blah blah blah, basically just trying to get in there. I check my jacket pocket to see have I any johnnies left. We all got, like, a free six-pack on our first day, roysh, off some focking Society or other, and I turned around to Christian and I’m like, ‘Six? Well that’s the first weekend looked after,’ but that turned out to be bullshit because they’re still unopened.
Anyway, roysh, I peg it out to Rathgar and her old dear opens the door – bit of a yummy mummy; with a daughter who looks like Denise Richards, of course she is – and she says Erika’s not in, she’s actually down with her horse, she goes, ‘She spends half her life with that animal,’ but I might be able to get her on her mobile if she has it switched on, which she probably doesn’t because it freaks out the horse. I tell her I’ll, like, head down to the stables myself to see can I catch her.
The cor pork is full of really cool cors and I’m actually embarrassed porking the old dear’s Micra there, but fock it. I mooch around the place looking for her, and when I eventually see her, roysh, she’s carrying this, like, bucket of I-don’t-know-what, basically some type of shit she feeds the horse, and I’m straight over, playing the total gentleman, going, ‘Erika, let me carry that for you,’ flexing the old biceps as well, of course.
When I go to take it from her, though, she shoots me this total filthy, roysh, so I just hold my hands up and go, ‘Hey, no offence.’ I follow her into the stable and she puts the bucket down and goes, ‘Your girlfriend has a serious attitude problem.’ I ask her who she means, roysh, and she goes, ‘Sorcha,’ and I tell her that Sorcha isn’t my girlfriend, that I’m young, free and single and I want to mingle, which she just ignores. She goes, ‘I SO love her little friend, the one with the Rimmel foundation. Made such an impression in The Queen’s last night, didn’t she? That’s what you get when you go dredging for friends in Bray.’ I’m like, ‘That’s actually what I’m here for, Erika,’ and she goes, ‘What are you here for, Ross?’ I’m about to tell her that I thought she was really badly treated last night, roysh, when all of a sudden she goes, ‘Do you want to be with me? Is that why you’re here?’ and even though she makes it sound sort of, like, sleazy, roysh, I tell her yes and she goes, ‘Okay then, let’s go.’
So I basically just grab her, roysh, and stort doing, like, tongue sarnies with her, and I have to say, even though the boots and the jodhpurs are a major turn-on, she’s not actually as good a kisser as I remembered from the last time I was with her two years ago. I open my eyes a couple of times, sort of, like, mid-snog, roysh, and notice that she has her eyes open the whole time, and this sort of sounds, like, weird, roysh, but it was like kissing a dead body and the only response I actually get out of her is when we fall backwards into the hay and I try to go a bit further than just snogging – can’t blame a goy for chancing his orm – and she just looks over my shoulder and goes, ‘Get off me. I have to feed Orchid.’
Out this particular Friday night, roysh, and me and Christian make the mistake of hitting Boomerangs, got the old beer goggles on, of course, spot this gang of birds, roysh, obviously out on a hen’s night, we’re talking easy pickings here, mosey on over, give them a couple of killer lines, though I wouldn’t have bothered if I’d known they were skobies. This one bird, roysh, she looks like Kelly Brook, but she talks like something off ‘Fair City’, and she has a laugh like a focking donkey getting taken out with an Uzi.
I go up to her, playing it cool like Huggy Bear, roysh, and I go, ‘I know what you’re thinking. Great body, amazing-looking, dresses well – and yet he’s got something else. The X factor,’ and this bird, she turns around to the bird beside her and goes, ‘’Cinta, have a listen to dis fella,’ and I think Christian’s the only one there who cops the look of, like, pure focking horror on my face. He turns around to me, roysh, and he goes, ‘Jesus, Ross, these people are working class,’ – can be difficult to tell these days, every slapper in town’s wearing Ralph since TK Maxx opened – and I’m going, ‘Play it cool, Christian. Play it nice and cool and I’ll get us the fock out of here.’
She going, ‘’Cinta, have a listen to um,’ and she turns to me and she goes, ‘Go on, young fella. Say it again.’ I’m not gonna be a performing seal for any skobie bird, so I just give her a different line this time, show her I’m not a one-trick pony. I’m there, ‘We wouldn’t be true to ourselves if we denied that there’s an attraction here,’ and she’s off again – nah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah, hee-haw – and ’Cinta’s cracking her hole as well, as are all the other birds. ’Cinta goes, ‘Does de voice great, doesn’t he?’ and another one of the birds – focking cat – she goes, ‘Ah Jaysus, he’s veddy good.’
The bird who, until ten seconds ago, reminded me of Kelly Brook, she goes, ‘Where are yiz from den, lads?’ and I go, ‘I’m from Foxrock. Upmorket area on the south side,’ and they all break their shites laughing again and ’Cinta goes, ‘Dee can’t be serdious for foyiv minutes, can dee?’ Kelly Brook Gone Wrong goes, ‘Are yis gettin’ dem in, lads?’ We’re all drinkin’ Ritz, ’cept for Pamela dare who’s on pints of Carlsberg and so is Anee-eh.’ I go, ‘Fine. We shall return presently,’ and ’Cinta’s going, ‘Dare gas, ardent dee,’ as me and Christian head off in the general direction of the bor, but take a long detour out the focking emergency exit and up the road without looking back once.
I phone up Erika, roysh, on her mobile, and ask her where she is, but she doesn’t answer, she just goes, ‘What do you want?’ so I get straight to the point. I’m there, ‘Just wanted to talk to you about, you know, what happened between us,’ and she goes, ‘Make it quick. I’m in Nine West.’ I’m like, ‘Well, I just wanted to let you know that I won’t say anything to Sorcha. About, you know, me and you being with each other. I know she’s your best friend,’ and there’s this, like, silence on the other end of the line. I’m like, ‘Are you still there?’ and she goes, ‘The line is perfect, Ross. Is that all you want to say?’ and I’m like, ‘Well, I just wondered whether you were going to say anything to her,’ not that I actually give a shit one way or the other, just wanted an excuse to ring her, see if there’s any chance of another bit. She goes, ‘Do you think being with you is something I’d actually brag about?’
CHAPTER TWO
‘Ross is, like – OH MY GOD! – so shallow.’
Discuss.
Me and Oisinn skip our three o’clock, roysh, and we’re in his gaff watching ‘Countdown’ and he tells me it’s my turn to go to the fridge and get the beers, so I head out to the kitchen, roysh, and, HOLY FOCK! I’m like, ‘What the …’ There’s this, like, life-size statue of, I don’t know, some dude with long hair, big fock-off wings and no mickey. I go back into Oisinn and I’m like, ‘What the fock is that thing out there?’ He goes, ‘The bacon? You didn’t throw it out, did you? It’s only a week past its sell-by date,’ and I’m like, ‘I’m talking about that focking statue. Looks like the one in the paper. The one that was stolen from the Classics Museum on Freshers’ Day.’ Oisinn just looks at me.
I’m like, ‘Are you focking mad? I can’t believe it was you,’ and he’s like, ‘Me? Ross, do you remember Freshers’ Day?’ I’m there, ‘I told you already, I was rat-orsed, pretty much the whole day is a blank.’ He goes, ‘You stole it, Ross. This is your shit. You asked me could I mind it for you. And thanks for reminding me, you’re going to have to take it with you. My old pair are storting to ask questions.’
I’ve a few focking questions of my own. He goes, ‘It’s Eros apparently.’ I’m like, ‘Hello? I need a little more information than that …’ He’s there, ‘Well, Fionn said he was the son of Aphrodite. Fired magic arrows at people’s hearts and made them fall in love.’ He doesn’t even turn away from the television when he says this. He goes, ‘Actually, I thought it was Cupid did that. Consonant, Carol.’ I’m like, ‘You know w
hat I mean. When did I steal it? No, why? No, how?’ He goes, ‘Pretending you don’t remember. Cute.’ There’s no focking way I’m letting him pin this one on me. I’m like, ‘I’m sorry, Oisinn. I didn’t steal that thing. You’re gonna have to prove it.’ He turns around, roysh, calm as anything, and he goes, ‘Ross, you were wearing the face off Eros in front of the UCD webcam as a dare. There was about thirty of us sitting in the computer lab watching you. I’ve actually got it on disk. And you mooning.’
I’m actually storting to feel faint. I sit down. I’m there, ‘Is that the lot? I mean, did I do anything else that day?’ He thinks for a bit and goes, ‘Some ugly bird was looking for you in Finnegan’s Break yesterday morning. Think you might have joined the Chess Society.’ I’m there, ‘I am SO never drinking again.’ He goes, ‘Fock me, Gyles, you’re roysh, draughts does have eight letters … I’ll help you carry it out to the cor.’
I ask for a large latte, roysh, and the bird behind the counter, who’s, like, French or some shit, she says they have no large, so I ask for a small instead and she goes, ‘No small.’ I’m like, ‘What have you focking got?’ and she goes, ‘Only grande, tall and short,’ and at this stage, roysh, I’m so confused I don’t know what the fock to ask for, so I head back to Melissa and ask her what she wants, roysh, and she just looks me up and down and goes, ‘Will you grow up. This is focking serious,’ and for a couple of seconds I think she’s talking about the coffee, roysh, but when she stands up and, like, storms out of the place, I finally cop that she’s actually talking about what happened at the Traffic Light Ball. Or should I say, afterwards.
I peg it after her, but she’s already across the other side of the road, up by the Central Bank, and the lights are red, but I leg it across anyway and this orsehole in a blue Nissan Almera beeps me, so I just give him the finger. I catch up with her and touch her on the shoulder, roysh, but she just, like, spins around and goes, ‘Nicole was SO right about you,’ and I’m going, Who the fock is Nicole? to myself, of course, and she’s there, ‘You are such an orsehole. That’s what she told me, Ross. And she was right.’ I’m suddenly all, like, defensive now, I’m there, ‘Hey, I said I’d meet you this morning and I did,’ and she goes, ‘You just want to make sure I go through with it.’ I’m there, ‘Not true, I wanted to be here with you. This is something you shouldn’t have to go through on your own.’ She goes, ‘You are SO full of shit. You’re just thinking about what your parents would say if they found out I was …’ I’m like, ‘Bullshit. Anyway, you’re not,’ and she turns around and storts walking again, off through Temple Bar, and I, like, follow her from a safe distance.
There’s a goy busking in the archway outside Abrakebabra, roysh, and it’s like, ‘Don’t Look Back in Anger’, and as we’re waiting for the lights, roysh, I tell Melissa that that song has been SO ruined by every busker in town playing it, but she just ignores me, as she does when I ask her why they’re building a new bridge next to the Ha’penny Bridge. She just, like, shakes her head, roysh, and I am SO tempted to point out that this is only, like, fifty percent my fault, that it takes two to tango, but I know it’ll only make things worse if I do.
The place is next door to Pravda, and Melissa presses the button on the intercom, says she has an appointment and the next thing, roysh, there’s a bird behind a desk asking her whether she’s attended the clinic before, and Melissa looks her up and down and goes, ‘Hordly!’ Then we’re sitting down in the waiting room and Melissa’s filling out this, like, form and shit, which she gives to the nurse and then we just, like, sit there and wait. In total silence. I sort of look sideways at her a couple of times and I have to say, roysh, she’s actually a bit better looking than I thought she was last night, a little bit like Charisma Carpenter, except with blonde hair. I only ended up with her because Christian wanted to be with her best friend, Stephanie, who actually does look a little bit like Natalie Portman, and he asked me to take a bullet for him, which, being the great mate that I am, I did. They’re both, like, first year Orts.
Eventually, roysh, the doctor calls her into her office, and I’m not sure whether I’m supposed to, like, go in with her, but as I go to stand up Melissa tells me to stay outside and mind her stuff, which suits me fine. I’m sitting there, roysh, looking around and there’s this bird sitting two seats down from me who I think I recognise from Annabel’s, and she’s a total nervous wreck, can’t stop, like, fidgeting and shit.
All of a sudden, roysh, Melissa’s phone storts beeping, so I grab it out of her bag and notice that she has a text message and it’s from some bird called Gwen and it’s like, OMG, which I presume means Oh My God, RACHEL KISSED ROSS, which I’m guessing is, like, a reference to ‘Friends’. Two sad bitches, and we’re talking TOTALLY here. I flick through her numbers, roysh, and notice that she knows four or five chicks I’ve been with before. I still don’t have a clue who this Nicole one is, and I think about writing down her number, roysh, but in the end I don’t bother. I lash her phone back in her bag and stort flicking through a copy of Now! that the bird two seats down has just put back on the table. Says you can achieve the Liz Hurley look by using this gel, lactic acid or some shit, to increase the flow of blood to the lips, making them look fuller.
About ten minutes later, roysh, Melissa comes out and it’s all, like, thank-you this and thank-you that to the doctor, but her face changes when she sees me and she just, like, heads straight for the door and I follow her down the stairs. We walk back towards Grafton Street and even though I have no real interest in seeing her again, I ask her what she’s doing later and she goes, ‘Leaning over the toilet and getting sick, I would imagine.’ I ask her what she’s bullshitting on about and she goes, ‘Do you have any idea what I’ve just taken?’ and I go, ‘The morning-after pill,’ and she just shakes her head and tells me I haven’t got a clue.
She says she’s going down for the Dorsh, roysh, and I tell her I’m going to get the 46A. And I don’t know why, maybe because I feel sorry for her, I ask her whether I’ll see her in college tomorrow and she tells me not to get my hopes up, that she’s seeing someone.
The old man comes into my room and he’s there, ‘Ross, is there any reason why there’s a Greek statue in the laundry room?’ I just give him a filthy and go, ‘You have SUCH a focking attitude problem.’
I ring Sorcha, roysh, and tell her that the Castlerock debs is coming up at the end of November and, well, would it be alroysh if I called out to see her tonight because there’s, like, something I really want to ask her. She’s there, ‘Of course. Make it after eight. Mum and Dad will be at the sailing club annual dinner.’
So after half-eight, roysh, I mosey on out to Killiney and Sorcha, roysh, she’s made the effort, there’s no doubt about that, she opens the door and she’s wearing her black halterneck from Pia Bang, her black Karen Millen trousers and the black Prada boots I bought her for her birthday last year, and half a focking bottle of Issey Miyake.
She air-kisses me and asks me whether I want, like, marshmallows in my hot chocolate. I’m like, ‘Cool, yeah,’ and I follow her into the kitchen and we sit at the counter, roysh, sipping hot chocolate and making small talk and she’s like a child she’s so excited.
Eventually, I go, ‘Sorcha … em … as you know, the debs is coming up. And it’s weird, but I’m … em … a bit nervous asking you this.’ Her face is all lit up. She’s like, ‘Go on, it’s okay.’ I’m like, ‘Well, we’ve known each other since … forever, haven’t we? You know you’re very special to me. How’s that goy you’re going out with, by the way, the twenty-eight-year-old?’ She’s like, ‘Cillian? I have to be honest with you, it’s not really serious. We’re only really, like, seeing each other.’ I’m like, ‘Good, good. Anyway, Sorcha, as you know, there’s no one in the world who I value more than you. Which is why I wanted to ask you, with the debs coming up in two weeks, if you’d mind if I asked Erika to go with me.’
She’s like, ‘What?’ and I go, ‘Erika.’ She’s there, ‘Erika?
Erika as in my best friend Erika?’ and I’m like, ‘Have you got a problem with that?’ She’s, like, staring into space, trying to get her head around this, but of course she doesn’t want to let herself down. She goes, ‘No, I’ve no, em, problem with it. Ask her if you want.’ I’m like, ‘I will. I’m glad you’re cool about it.’
She goes, ‘Actually, I was hoping you weren’t going to ask me. I know I said me and Cillian were only seeing each other, but I think he wants to be a bit more serious about things.’
Pathetic. I know I could have her now if I wanted her.
I finish my hot chocolate and get up to go. I’m there, ‘I like that music, by the way,’ and she goes, ‘It’s Bizet. It’s from Carmen,’ and she’s trying her best not to cry, but I can see the tears in her eyes.
JP sends me a text message, roysh, and it’s like:
SCORED A JUDGE’S DAUGHTER LAST NIGHT! AFFLUENCE!
I’m in the bor, roysh, shooting some pool with Christian, two o’clock in the day and the two of us gee-eyed. Christian was locked when I met him at ten o’clock this morning, totally paranoid as well, keeps telling me that the UCD water tower is the secret headquarters of the Prophets of the Dark Side and I ask him who the fock they are – why I encourage the goy I don’t know – and he tells me they’re essentially a band of imperial operatives posing as mystics who are strong in the Dark Side of the Force, and whose real function is espionage. I go – quick thinking, this – ‘They’re probably listening to us now. Let’s be careful what we say,’ and he nods and goes, ‘Well, they have a vast network of spies as well.’ The goy is losing it.