By Dan Grennan
Upon hearing the news that DIT and half of Dublin would be closed for the day, myself and my two roommates came to the conclusion that there was only one option for us, to go on the sesh!
After a restful sleep, we rose at noon to find we had no cans or spirits to get us through the hurricane. Unsure whether any shops would be open or willing to sell us cans, we made our way into Blackrock village.
As we went on our way we noticed the Wicked Wolf was open. This was a good omen.
We discussed that if needs be we could always risk going in and asking if they do take away because none of were willing to spend our cash on expensive pints.
Eddie rockets was also open, another good omen. As we struggled through the winds and Eddie Rockets we saw that centra was open and on seeing the news my roommate, Jack, let out a gleeful shout. Alas, the cans were ours!
All three of us swaggered into the shop in search of some glorious beverages. However, it was not to be, Centra’s alcohol shelf consisted of a measly selection of wines. None of us are fond of headaches or gut-rot and couldn’t bring ourselves round to making the purchase. We inquired with the store clerk whether any other shops were open in the village but she answered no.
Standing outside Centra on the corner of the main street we were defeated men.
We were filled with doom and gloom thinking our journey had come to a close until Nathan suggested we drown our sorrows in the Wetherspoons not 50 metres up the road.
Filled with boisterous glee, we walked through the doors of the Three Tun Tavern (The name of the Wetherspoons). The atmosphere in the pub did not reflect our mood. There were constant weather updates on every screen which was also the only source of sound in the place.
There was a couple of auld lads dotted around the place sipping pints, a pair of young boys in the corner and a dismal mood all round. This was to be our shelter for the storm.
Despite the mood in the room, we went to the bar and got our pints. Jack got a fosters, Nathan an ale and I a bitter. The sum of the three pints was under 8 euro, the silver lining in the cloud of dismay.
After a short conversation with the tired looking bar man we made our way to the smoking area to survey the storm. The wind had picked up and there was a drizzle of rain in the air.
Not long after we went out a short man in his 50s approached and asked us for a light for his rollie. Jack obliged. After lighting up his rollie, Gerry started telling us about his life as an international boat salesmen and how he used to travel the world.
We were enjoying his conversation and stories until he started into his life as author and his book on Ireland before Christianity and then we started to doubt Gerry’s trustworthiness. After he concluded his short monologue about his book I asked for his second name so I could look up his book which he refused to give me because “it would make it too easy for you”. Whatever that means.
Soon after Gerry made it back inside to the company of his pint while we stayed out and reveled in the ex-hurricane.
We had the smoking area to ourselves until we were met with another smoker. A big man by the name of Shane. Shane was not as glamorous as Gerry. Shane told us he had been a doorman around Dublin for the past twenty years.
It wasn’t long before Shane began telling us some of his tales from 20 years experience manning the doors of Dublin’s clubs and pubs. One of the wilder ones was when he got stabbed through his forearm by a man he refused entry to and nearly bled out. Shane said “when he pulled the knife out he also pulled out my vain”. He was in such a bad state that he had to be rushed to the Children’s Hospital for fear of him loosing too much blood.
He said at the time he didn’t feel it because of the shear amount of adrenalin that was rushing around his body. It was also his downfall because it pumped more blood out of his arm. He showed us the scar from the incident which was quite gruesome.
After a few of his stories, Shane invited us in to meet his friend Liam. Ophelia was starting to kick-off so we decided it’d be best to get some shelter.
Before we got to his table Shane pulled us aside and warned us that Liam had lost most of his face and all his fingers because he was licked by his dog a few years back. This sounds like a joke but it’s not.
Liam was a lovely man. Small in stature with a friendly heart. After greeting him I couldn’t help myself but ask how he lost most of his face. He told us, a few years ago his dog had licked his face and he began to feel unwell. He felt so bad that he checked himself into hospital and over the next few days his face and fingers began to fall off.
The doctors used a piece his rib to restructure his nose and flesh from his shoulder to construct a new face.
He said the doctors had a hard time finding out what it was but eventually put it down to a reaction his skin had from weird bacteria the dog had on it’s tongue.
Despite his misfortune, Liam was a very jolly man and still has the dog to this day!
While we chatted away to Liam and Shane, day became night and worst and the storm had passed.
We decided it would be best to make our way home and leave the Three Tun Tavern until the next time.