| Abroad in Dublin | home |
Mulligans was a pub. I still have a sort of picture of it in my head. It was very busy and the group we joined had accumulated in a tight alcove. As far as I remember the ceiling above the alcove was sloped in such a way as to affect my standing position - I opted not to sit. Surrounded by people in a friendly environment, I was in good spirits, somewhat fuelled by the black stuff and in a mood to meet the people who dropped by. In my mind this was just lovely. The first night in Dublin and we'd already found a totally random social situation the likes of which we'd always shied away from in previous holidays.
Looking back to the 2001/2002 border, I think I came to a few realisations. One of them was that I was too old and ugly to be worried about what the world thought of me. I was much more prepared to be bold and brave and do whatever I wanted to. At the office Christmas party in December 2001, for the first time ever, I got onto the dancefloor - without too much of an influence of alcohol; I danced with my fiancee, whom I found to be the most stunningly attractive of all present and I was proud to be me. Although still largely overweight (not something I can claim I'm not, although I'm less so now) I was comfortable in my skin - all of it - and nothing could shake my confidence in all I took for granted in my life.
I'm not a jealous man, so did not take umbrage when George apologetically over-enthusiastically bestowed Caroline with praise. What was I suppose to do? Agree with him? Get all jealous about the fiancee I'd had for almost exactly 5 years (minus one day)? Start a fight in an Irish pub? It just wasn't necessary - I thought I made it clear that I was watching and that we all knew who was with whom. At the end of the day, I thought at the time, what's the worst that can happen - he's hardly going to whip her away from under my very nose is he?
We found other characters in the pub and they proved entertaining and distracting. I can't remember the exact details. Perhaps the only things I can remember is an Irish girl who worked for Orange directory enquiries and a lad, who on hearing there were Newcastle residents in the pub, and having lived in the North East himself for a while, came from wherever he was to join us, carrying a plastic metal-effect tray which he insisted on referring to as "The Charity Shield".
All in all, the night was going really well... until I was taken aside by Paul and given a word to the wise. Again, the details are sketchy, the booze and time lapse between then and now haven't helped, but the message was "Can't you see what's happening under your nose? Stand up for yourself". Offering complacent platitudes, I went over to see what was going on with Caroline and George. It still all looked fairly innocent to me. I knew that George was getting over-friendly but there was still enough good humour in it and Caroline wasn't giving me warning signals... so I couldn't find anything in me to make me stand-up and cause a scene.
The night threatened to end up in a night-club and Caroline and I made our excuses and left. This did not happen before George insisted on trading phone numbers. He took Caroline's (I guess that was probably not a good idea) and gave us his number on the plastic card which had come around the SIM card of his actual phone (a bizarre thing to remember, but I just remembered it). He insisted on giving Caroline a kiss on the cheek before we left... so I insisted that he gave me one too. I wasn't going to let her have all the action.
We left the pub and headed back to our hotel, the night air reminding us how hungry we'd been all alone - not having eaten. The lass who worked for Orange had, as an incentive for us to join them in the nightclub, suggested we could grab a sandwich at a Spar on the way. We shunned this idea. Eating from a Spar? Ironically, of course, our sustenance for the journey home was provided in the form of donuts from a Spar or similar.
At some point soon after Mulligan's, two things happened. One, we binned the telephone number card that George had given us, putting the event behind us. Two, I started to feel somewhat plagued by the warning that Paul had given me. It seemed like the encounter in the pub had been something of a challenge to my manhood and that I'd failed. I couldn't see how I could have acted differently. After all, Caroline didn't turn to me for help - or at least I didn't see her do that. A relationship without trust is nothing and I trusted Caroline completely. So it was inconceivable to me how it could matter if some good natured man, who'd had a few drinks, got a bit giggly and gooey over my pretty girlfriend - after all, I still fancied her, so why wouldn't anyone else? But I was still haunted by the fact that I'd been taken aside and given a pep talk, like I was letting the school bully steal my girlfriend and just lying down and taking it.
Above all, my confidence and, more importantly, complacency, had kept me from worrying too much about it at the time. And anyway, we had the rest of our trip, which was, after all, a celebration of Caroline's birthday. There was also some hoohah about the Queen Mother dying, but this didn't seem to affect us at all.
17 May 2004
Ashley Frieze