So there we were; brother Enda & I, queuing up to get our terrible coffees from the Arts Café (aka Hilpers, aka Finnegan’s Break) in the time-honoured fashion. Just an average weekday morning, the start of another tedious day of lectures, tutorials and cigarettes. Can’t remember what we were talking about as we paid an exorbitant price for our cups of sludge and moved towards the condiments stand, but it was sufficient distraction whatever it was. See, I ain’t so good at the old ‘multi-tasking’.
Anyhow. I’m speechifying, saying some bullshit about something or other, and Enda is to my left waiting for me to be done doing the whole ‘milk-&-sugar’ process. As I continue my ballsology, without pause or ceremony, I clasp a sachet of sugar, tear off the top, and dump the contents straight into the bin nearby.
What followed was a split second’s stupified silence, during which I glanced anxiously at Enda, Enda stared dumbfoundedly at the now-empty sachet in my hand, and we both absorbed what had transpired. Then my jovial comrade erupted into hysterical laughter and pointed, disbelieving, in the direction of my hand or the bin (I can’t remember which – it was in the same vicinity anyway). I merely smiled wrly at my own faux pas, and tried to remember never to attempt to do two things at once ever again.
Even so, it’s a warm memory that brings a grin to my lips.
Solidarity, brothers & sisters…☭