Regardless of whether I actually have the pub's name right, it represented a departure for me. The place was huge. It seemed like four or five giant rooms full of squat tables and stools, clustered around a bar. It was dimly lit – largely, the light seemed to be ambient, coming in through the large windows above us. There was a soccer game being played at the time, and a few of the folks there were watching it casually. A woman came by just after we arrived, a friend of theirs, and chatted Dave up about the family and the pending new arrival. It had a wonderful small-town feel to it, despite being in a city of about a million people.
Dave had hipped the man behind the bar, because whenever a glass was empty – or even slightly before – a new one showed up in its place. There were four of us, and I think Dave bought all, or nearly all, the rounds. That was when he told his dad and brother that I wasn't to pay for anything. I have no idea what Dave laid out for drinks that afternoon, but I'd probably blanch if I did. One thing I can say is that booze isn't cheap in Dublin, not even compared to Toronto.
We had a lot of beer. A lot of beer. Something I noticed about Dave was that he seemed to glide along on the beer without any sign of inebriation... until he hit some kind of set point, and then it just exponentiated. Bang, like a rocket, he was in orbit. I saw this happen a couple of times and it was fascinating to watch. That afternoon, it was hitting him about 3ish. We took a cab back to Ballymun and Dave simply had to grab "a nap". Jason and I left him to it and took another cab back to his dad's place in Santry, where I met his brother Tom and sister Joanne. We kept drinking the night away. At some point, pizza and chicken fingers arrived (Domino's, I believe... they're everywhere)... with it, we had white wine. The mob flick Goodfellahs came on and Jason and I spent the movie heckling and making comments. I don't remember much of it, of course, but I'm convinced we had a good time.
I ended up spending the night there in the room Jason's kids use when they visit him. I don't think I took anything off; I just passed out on the mattress on the floor. When I woke up, it was cool and damp (no one seemed to have double glazing or bug screens... you open a window and it's 110% open). It's the kind of cold that's slight, but effective... it soaks right into you. Despite the dampness, I had what felt like a dry throat. I hoped I wasn't coming down with something. I made my way downstairs... I guess it was about 7... and no one else was up yet. So I hung around with Franky the cat for a while... tried to figure out how to turn on the TV and failed... went into the kitchen and visited the dogs... Sammy and Sally? Not sure now... a husky and a basset hound. I drifted back to the front of the house and was looking out into the street when I heard someone in the kitchen. It was Dave and Jason's dad. We had a little chat about my impressions so far, and he made me tea, and returned to his room.
Jay was up not long afterwards and we started making arrangements for getting back to Ballymun. He called over. I was worried that they'd be upset with me... the plan had been to head over to Santry for a bit, and then go back and join them in the evening, which, of course, never happened. I thought they might be offended that I'd just taken off, crashed somewhere else, but no... they didn't mind at all, which really impressed me. Some people can get pretty uptight about stuff like that.
Dave had plans for us to head downtown, so the three of us caught the bus on Ballymun Road down to O'Connell Street. Route 13, I think. While we were waiting, I remember someone saying it looked like rain, at the exact same moment I was watching a rain shower in the street in front of us, not ten feet away, without a drop touching us. Lasted about 15 seconds. I've never seen anything like it before in my life.
Anyway, the bus was a double-decker. It was €1.60 to ride to O'Connell, which we did in the top level. There were some Americans a few rows in front of us, a couple in late middle age, pointing things out and commenting enthusiastically. Then the "American" man turned slightly and I saw the Canadian flag on the side of his ball cap. Hey, usually even we can't tell. :)
The trip was brisk, taking us through a very built-up area, some of it with glorious overhanging trees and beautiful homes. Finally, as the sun came out, we arrived at O'Connell Street. We got off the bus and Dave led us around, full of knowledge and interesting facts, knowing just where to go. I didn't realize till later he was blazingly hung over. What a trooper.
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