The Main Drag

O'Connell Street, Dublin, is the main thoroughfare in the city and a place of business for many. Famous as the place where Pearse chose to kick-off the Easter Rising, it has seen its fair share of parades and other gatherings. Football players, cyclists, boxers and international politicians have all waked along it and been feted for various outstanding achievements. Others, more humble, use it daily as they go about their business, but few are aware of those who reside there. And all the time too!

Sometimes referred to as The Dragsters, they are the statues that stand along the centre of the wide street, and are its immovable objects - a bit like the Manchester United defence. At a recent Dragsters' meeting, in the Harp Bar, which was surprise, surprise, kept very hush-hush, a lively time was had by all. Even Father Matthew!

It happened one evening when the country was collectively watching television. Jack's lads were playing a World Cup qualifying game on which everything depended. The tension had got to everybody and they had done their best in emptying the country's off-licences. They did well, too!
As the nation steadied itself with copious amounts of alcohol O'Connell Street was as empty as a politician's promise. If you had been lucky enough to be passing before kick-off the strangest, and surely the oddest sight, would have greeted you. The Dragsters to a man, and one woman, were making their way in animated fashion into the comfortably lit Harp Bar. It was a sight that would drive a man to drink; or maybe give it up - if you know what I mean.

But before I tell you about the goings-on at that session, I must first let it be known that the barman, Sean, who served the drinks is now in St. John of Gods, in Stillorgan. He's doing well, say the doctors, and that he has regained most of his sanity. But, he still thinks that's serving slops is okay, so I'll reserve judgement for the moment. Anyway, after the night serving the Stiffs he 'lost it'. He came around to my place shaking, and spoke like a man possessed. Of the drink, that is, for Sean got really pissed. What else can the poor fellow do, I thought, as he got stuck into my cans of Guinness, cigarettes and most of a bottle of whiskey? I thought that I had heard some good yarns before but this one took the biscuit. It was a long and crazy night, and his tale was equally so. Well, this is his tale…

Sean was cleaning glasses in the empty bar when the glass door was pushed by Jim Larkin who made straight for the counter. 'A pint', he boomed, and rubbed his hands excitedly. 'I've been waiting years for this and my throat's as dry as a pharaoh's sock', he added, and lit a cigarette. Before Sean could say 'We're closed', both James Joyce and Sir John Gray ordered pints, with Joyce saying that he'd kill for a packet of crisps. They removed their coats, threw them on the empty seats, and were settling in for a session as the other Dragsters got comfortable and ordered drinks.

Anna Livia was sitting next to Father Matthew where she knew she safe. He didn't drink and certainly was most unlikely to 'do anything'. She had seen enough drunks in her day, and night, and they really pissed her off. 'Oh, sorry about that father', she said 'but they do get up my nose.'
'I quite understand my child, I do know what you're talking about.'

'Not like some of the other blokes', she replied, looking at the dragsters that were gathering around the counter, laughing loudly and sometimes sneaking a glance in her direction.

'Here, get that into you', boomed O'Connell, as he reached down and placed a large glass of port in front of her. 'It'll put the colour back into them cheeks of yours' he said and grinned broadly.

She took a mouthful of the dark red liquid, letting it burn its way deep inside, and replied 'Thanks Dan, I really needed that.' As Dan the Man turned on his heel and moved back to the counter, Anna Livia said to Father Matthew, who was sipping a glass of lemonade 'He's the best'.

'I know my dear, I know', he answered, and opened a packet of peanuts and offered her some. She smiled gently and he shook a few into her open palm.

'Hurry up for jaysus sake, willya', shouted O'Brien to Sean, who was now running about like the proverbial fly. 'There's blokes here who haven't had a pint in years and now we have to be up with this service. It's a joke.' He looked about and a few heads shook in agreement.

'Yeah, get the finger out', cried Joyce, who looked like he had a short fuse.

'Not very literary, old boy', quipped Gray, winking at his drinking partner, 'but I think that he gets the point.'

'Gets the pint', roared Joyce almost coughing up his last mouthful. 'No pun intended', he added, and all about laughed loudly. Except Sean, of course.

'And I'll tell you another thing', said Parnell, taking a big swig of his whiskey and red lemonade. 'I should be on top of that monument instead of being at the bottom. It's a bloody disgrace.' He stroked his long beard and wiped the edge of his mouth carefully.

'You were on top of enough things, bucko', sneered Father Matthew, who had been waiting for years to have a go at the Bearded Git. 'You're a disgrace', he continued as the colour in his face went a tomato red.

'Well said, Father', encouraged Anna, blowing her first smoke-ring for years. It travelled across the floor before crashing into O'Connell's waistcoat. He looked up and saw her grinning mischievously at him. Good ould Anna, he thought, before winking at her and turning to talk to O'Brien.

Parnell said nothing. He could see that the cleric was wound up and he thought better of getting into a row with him. He was beginning to feel the whiskey kick in and there was no point in arguing with the 'sober one.' He finished off his drink and slunk off to the toilet suitably chastised.
'D'you know somethin' Dan', continued O'Brien, who was now moving back and forth somewhat unsteadily, next to the bar. 'I haven't had a fag for years and this is making me feel light-headed.' He rolled his eyes and stepped backwards abruptly. 'Oops.'

Dan guided him to a high stool where he mused that even now, after all these years, O'Brien still couldn't hold his drink.

Sean was busy serving a constant stream of pints to Joyce, Gray and 'Big Jim' Larkin who were involved in a serious session.

'Jaysus, you're a terrible man altogether', laughed Jim to Joyce who had just made one of his famous cutting remarks. Gray was crying his eyes out and repeating the punchline to himself. Joyce was leaning on the counter and licking the creamy Guinness from his moustache contentedly when Gray once again exploded into laughter.

'What did you say to him Jimmy', asked Molly Malone, butting in between Joyce and Larkin excitedly.

Joyce wiped his lips and replied. 'I just said to the Gray fella, that if didn't buy a round the Corporation would turn him into a pigeon.'

'……and yeah', added Gray quickly 'then I'd be able to shit on Parnell from a great height.' All laughed loudly with tears running down Gray's face.

'Very funny', shouted the Bearded Git angrily, as he looked down on the giggling Gray. He moved closer and was about to punch Gray when his fist was stopped suddenly by Dan the Man.

'One more word from you and you're barred. Isn't that right, barman?'

All eyes turned to Sean who was pulling two pints and reaching for more packets of crisps. 'Yeah, whatever you say Mr. O'Connell, whatever you say.' He didn't move a muscle and hoped that he'd said the right thing.

'Now you see you could get us all barred', said Joyce, 'and nobody wants that now, do they?'

Parnell relented and Dan released his grip. He looked around at the other Stiffs, who were as still as they ever were, and waiting for his next move. He shook himself and said 'I'm sorry folks, it must be the drink.'

They all relaxed.

'Sure you'll be all right when you have a few more inside you', said Larkin with a wink. 'And mine's a pint', he added, before heading to the toilet.

'How are things down on North Earl Street these days, Jimmy?' asked Molly, as she seductively puffed on a long awaited cigarette.

Joyce straightened himself before replying. 'Not bad Molly, not bad at all. It's nice to be close to the people.'
She nodded agreement.

'Did you know that some of them have started rubbing my nose for luck?'

'Go way outtadat, Jimmy', she sniggered, and waited for more.

'No, seriously. Here, look at it it, it's all smooth.' He leaned towards her and added 'Just as well they didn't rub anything else, eh!'

'You really are a terrible man, Jimmy', she said, as he grinned and raised his hat.

'I know', he replied, his eyes just above the edge of his pint glass 'and how are you getting on up there in Grawf-ton Street.' He raised an eyebrow mockingly and took another sip of the black stuff.

Molly didn't rise to his condescending remark and finished her vodka & coke before replying. 'Well it's not as lively as down here if you know what I mean, but it's fine.' She flicked a stray hair from her eye and said ' I'm thinking of going to Trinity College next year. Improve meself, you know.'

'Educating Molly, eh', chipped in Parnell quickly.

'Nice one CS', said Gray, who was now eyeing Molly with growing interest.

'Yeah, I'm looking forward to meeting Lecky and Goldsmith. I hear Goldy is a great man for throwing parties, and god knows I love a knees-up. Should be fun.'

'Still the same old Molly', said O'Connell, putting an arm around her shoulder and smiling broadly. 'It's good to see you again darling, and you're looking great. Isn't she lads?'

'Smashing', blurted Gray enthusiastically his face reddening immediately.

'Thanks lads, it's great to be among friends', Molly cooed and blew Gray a kiss. He went even redder before Joyce butted in with 'If you don't watch yourself you'll be going home in that barrow of hers.'

'The nerve of ya Jimmy', she cried out loud and slapped him on the shoulder playfully. She looked directly at Gray who sheepishly turned away and made for the safety of the basement toilets.

'Do you know what really gets up my nose', asked Dan, as Joyce handed him another pint of Guinness.

'What's that Dan?' asked a few voices together.

'It's them bloody glue sniffers that hang around my pace. They cheapen the place. I mean it's bad enough with them crazy bus-drivers and joy riders, but them glue sniffers are really something else.' He took a sip and continued. ' I was going to get one of the angels to scare them off but that would've started the whole moving statue thing again.'

'Too true, Dan', agreed Larkin who had first-hand experience of this carry-on.

Father Matthew butted in and said with a smile 'But sure that wouldn't have been the first moving statue on the street, now would it?'

The others looked at the grinning clerics who scanned the other faces that were covered with quizzical frowns.

'And who was that?' asked O'Brien finally.

'Nelson', replied the cleric, a huge smile breaking out on his small face.

There was a momentary pause before the gang exploded into loud, raucous laughter. 'Ireland's first astronaut', quipped Joyce, as the laughter intensified.

'Yeah, and he's nearer to heaven that you are Father', added Gray, who was now doubled-over crying his eyes out he was laughing so hard.

It was a wonderful moment that earned Joyce the enviable title, bestowed by Larkin, of 'Street Smartass.'

He bowed to the group and said 'An honour indeed…….now whose round is it?'

Molly and Anna were sitting in the corner of the pub and discussing clothes when Sean turned on the television so that the Dragsters could watch the game.

Molly was telling Anna about the quality of the shops up her end of town when Gray came over with drinks. 'Here you are girls, now get them into ya.'

'Thanks John', came the reply in unison.

He smiled and added 'And I'll see you later Molly.' He winked at her and left.

'Cheeky so-and-so', said Molly 'but he's a nice arse though.'

'Not as good as Dan's though', giggled Anna, casting a glance in his direction.

Molly followed her eyes. 'I see what you mean, like two peas in a pod.'

They checked out the rest of the lads and agreed that Dan had indeed got the best buns. 'Rear of the year', joked Molly.

'More like Rear of the Century', cackled Anna, and held her hands as though grabbing them.

The Dragsters were all gathered in front of the television shouting encouragement to Jack'' Lads.

'Come on Irwin, get stuck in'

'Go right, go right.'

'Use Quinn, use him.'

'What's the score Sean', asked O'Brien, who was now the worse for wear. He rolled his eyes, under heavy lids, and belched loudly. 'Sorry folks', he muttered and staggered downstairs.

'One each', replied Sean, 'Robbie Keane just scored the equaliser. And if it stays like this we'll be off to the World Cup', he added, smiling for the first time that afternoon.

'And how long is there left', boomed O'Connell's voice, so loud that all conversation stopped immediately.

Sean paused his pint pulling and looked up. 'Five minutes Mr. O'Connell; it's almost over.'

Dan the Man scanned the other faces. 'Drink up quickly folks as the game is just about over, and we need to be getting back to base.' He drained his pint and putting his glass on the counter nodded his satisfaction and thanks to Sean.

'Back to basics', quipped Gray, making his second humorous contribution of the day.

'I don't want to ruin this folks, but we have to go. It's been great seeing you all, and I'm sure that if the Lads keep wining we can come back for a few more jars. Isn't that right Sean?'

Sean swallowed and stuttered a reply. 'Of course. Anytime, you're always welcome.'

'Thanks Sean', said Joyce, licking the last drop Guinness from his moustache.

'Yeah, thanks again', said Gray, as he reached for his coat. He was so pissed that he was putting on O'Brien's raincoat before Larkin put him right.

Molly blew Gray another kiss before giving dan a big hug. 'See ya big man, it's been fun'.

O'Connell looked at her and grinned. 'Take care Molly, and see you next time, eh!'

She tossed her shawl over her shoulder and collected her wheelbarrow that she had tied to a nearby parking metre. She waved to the Dragsters who were standing on the bridge, and moving off up D'Olier Street, she smiled to herself as they drunkenly and loudly the opening verse of her song 'Cockles and Mussels.'

Biography

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