“And speaking of drink Master.” I was the master he was addressing here though of course I wisely ignored him.
“I thought,” said Margie, “that the anti-treating league was to stop people standing drinks to spongers. After all, if you’re taking your turn to buy your round you’re not treating anybody, are you? You’re only treating somebody if you buy them a drink without expecting them to buy you one back.”
“It’s a whatdoyoucall it, a misnomer,” agreed Seamus. “Is that what you call it, Margie?”
“The very word,” said Margie. “A misnomer. Misnomer’s the word.”
Bill was now giving me his full attention, determined I think not to let the Greek chorus sidetrack him. It was almost admirable the way he handled the situation but then he’s been dealing with unruly classes for more than thirty years. If you can’t beat them then pretend they’re not there.
“Drink has been the curse of this country, Jeremiah, did you know that?” he said.
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. This hasty movement caused the room to spin a little and there and then I made up my mind to keep the head still.
YOU ARE READING
The Wake - Table of contents
HumorTHE YEAR is 1968 and the Swinging Sixties are still swinging - though not in Ireland. But wait! An old woman dies in a northern Irish town and her wake becomes a rendezvous for lesbians, bisexuals and political revolutionaries. And in there among t...
