3
32-20-Blues
New member
My friend Declan Moffett from Glenamaddy was coming home with me from London. We had been given first class tickets, and so he was septic with the drink. He had a bag of oranges under one arm as a present for all his nieces and nephews back home in Galway - "Howya lads, oranges from England" - and was calling for more and more champagne.
Now, do you know how it goes when you get so drunk you cannot actually bring yourself to form the words you intend to say? You can see them in your mind's eye as clear as day, but articulating them becomes problematic. Declan had intended to ask me had I ever come home to have sex with my wife when she wasn't entirely in the mood for it.
I should add that his ears had popped by now, and he was unaware of how loud his own voice was.
Turning in his seat to face me, he winces with the effort of extracting a semblance of rational thought from the alcohol infused slop of his brain, and shouts out in a thick country-boy accent:
"TELL ME TOMMY, DID YA EVER RAPE SOMEONE?"
That is all.
Now, do you know how it goes when you get so drunk you cannot actually bring yourself to form the words you intend to say? You can see them in your mind's eye as clear as day, but articulating them becomes problematic. Declan had intended to ask me had I ever come home to have sex with my wife when she wasn't entirely in the mood for it.
I should add that his ears had popped by now, and he was unaware of how loud his own voice was.
Turning in his seat to face me, he winces with the effort of extracting a semblance of rational thought from the alcohol infused slop of his brain, and shouts out in a thick country-boy accent:
"TELL ME TOMMY, DID YA EVER RAPE SOMEONE?"
That is all.