Meeting people is easy

So the big OD meet happened. I said I wouldn’t write about it. And I won’t. Maybe I will. I don’t know what I’ll do, it’s been a pretty hectic weekend. A holiday weekend here, and a very warm one at that. Comparitively speaking. I was off work sick all week, returning for on Friday for a day’s work before the weekend. Saturday morning I woke up at 11am, mowed the lawn and spoke to a woman who lives round behind our house. Her husband is dying of cancer, he’s now in a wheelchair and seems childlike. I don’t know whether that’s because of his condition or because maybe when some people realise they’re about to meet their maker, they become less inhibited. The woman told me about how her and her husband went to see a West End show in London years ago. The man in the wheelchair smiled and laughed through some strain that was on his throat. We talked about films; she’d liked There’s Something About Mary but hated Bridget Jones’ Diary. Her daughter used to babysit me, she’s in Australia now.

I went back to bed after that, and woke up at 3pm. The visitors had arrived; my Uncle Gerry and his wife and daughter were staying for the weekend. I showered and went down to them, having a breakfast and generally pretending it was five hours ago. Then they left and I watched television. I was waiting for the night to hurry up and come. At eight o’clock I went upstairs and got dressed. I got the 9pm bus into Dublin and texted Cormac on the way. He said he’d given up on Elaine. Elaine tells it like it is; I’m too liberal and high-minded tosay what needs to be said. That Cormac doesn’t need the approval of others to be gay, as he seems to think. But Cormac only hears advice, he never listens. And it makes me want to hit him. Not very liberal of me.

So then I arrived on O’Connell Street, currently being dug up to install a large landmark that will in years to come be as synonomous with Dublin as the Eiffel Tower is to Paris or the Statue of Liberty is with…….that place in America. Cassie said she’d be in soon, so I got a large coffee in Burger King. That stuff could clear drains it’s so strong. My eyes were sore from what felt like tiredness, so I ingested enough caffeine to literally link me up to the lunar power grid and thus wire me to the fucking moon. It took a while, but soon I was buzzing off of dat shit. I walked down to the boardwalk, waiting for Cassie. I saw her get off the bus and I jumped across the wall and leaped between the traffic over to her. We walked to the Foggy Dew, Cassie with her apple juice and myself with the Heino. The place was packed, we were being swayed with the throng. A few drinks later, and with all the catching-up done, Mr Sixtyten arrives. He knew what Kerouac Phoenix and Lami Chartruese actually looked like, which might be a help. I got a Jack Daniels and Heineken just as Mr…..em…..ten said he saw the ladies. So off he went. Cassie and myself waiting for these two illustrious OD alumni to suddenly appear beside us. In the flesh. Sixtyten returned. Behind him were two girls, one smaller than the other so I knew which was which then. Hands shook, smiles all round; Audrey Mancini, formerly of this parish, and the spider-slaying mumble were with them. So that was that. We’d all met.

Impressions? Well, I was only talking to Kerouac and Lami for any great length and they’re extremely lovely ladies. I mean, seriously. Ahem. Lovely ladies. Ahem. And while they may have been a little fatigued from all the travelling and moshing or whatever those crazy kids do, they were simply delightful company and I’m glad because if they were obnoxious psychos with buck teeth and B.O., I’d be saying the same shit AND lying in my diary, which I like to try and avoid. mumble read The Slate, I would’ve too only I was blind drunk. Yes, there’s the catch. From now on, I mustn’t get drunk around people only just meeting me. Sixtyten (are you anything to Johnny 5?) was kind enough to send me pictures of the night, well the ones that were approved by Kerouac anyway (raises eyebrow) and I’m looking at the camera all dazed and, well, frankly confused with my jaw hanging open. And that pic isn’t going up here!

But I do hope to meet all the people behind the diaries and notes that have kept me writing something this past two years. Sambuca, DéiseGirl (hope you enjoyed the message, used up my credit on it!), that-guy and Icequeen – you’re on my list.

j

p.s. the weekend got weirder after the OD convention, but I’m tired right now. Just bought the Brass Eye DVD so maybe I’ll be busy this next week peeing in my pants.