Last week I was in Belfast again, meeting up to bid a friend bon voyage before he headed home to Australia. For old time's sake we stopped in at Lavery's Bar in Shaftesbury Square. Tempted, so tempted to have a (sickening sweet) Southern Comfort and white lemonade in honor of the past, I just couldn't bring myself to! I stuck safely to my new-found favorite of strawberry and lime flavored cider.
As I've mentioned before, liberal application of cider eventually results in the inevitable, so off I went to the Ladies'. While contemplating life, the universe, and everything in there, two women came in, chatting and laughing. They went into the stalls on either side of me.
Next thing I hear is: PPFFFFFTT! It went on longer than I thought possible. Followed by hysterical giggling.
"Eileen!" she shouted, "did ya hear that?"
Eileen: "No, I can't hear anything, Carol."
PRRRRAAAAFFFTT!!!!! "Did ya hear that?"
Eileen: "No!"
Another prolonged salvo. More giggling. "What about that?"
Eileen: "No, I tell ya I can't hear nothin'!"
Me: Exploding with laughter. "I did!"
Carol: "Oh! Hee hee hee! I'm on antibiotics ya see, love. It's playin' havoc with my stomach. I'm making all this noise but nothing's coming out."
Me: "I'm sorry...antibiotics can be hell on the system."
I went out to wash my hands, where Eileen was applying lipstick in front of the mirror. She turned to me, her face beetroot red. "I'm so sorry," she mouthed.
"No worries at all," I assured her. As I left the bathroom I called, "Hope you feel better soon, darling!"
"Thank ye, love!" shouted Carol, punctuated by a blast that would have alarmed the very security forces in days gone by.
Stumbling out to the table, I shook so hard with laughter I was incapable of speech for quite some time.
