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8 City Wall

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Alcopop


16 June 2007, Kilkenny Ireland

This evening I heard a thuddish rapping of some hard object on another, out on Chapel Lane; I looked out.

A couple of teen girls were doing something against the near wall. I asked them "lads, are y'alright" — which, believe it or not, is exactly the right thing to say upon such an encounter.

The day before

"I recognize you," I said.

"Wha?" said he....

One of them spied me first — one floor up, I was briefly a disembodied voice to them, and they'd had to look around, baffled.

I realized, then, what they'd been doing. They were trying to pull the cap off of a bottle against a surface. I told them that I was sorry; I'd thought that they'd been vandalizing; that I've seen a lot of that around here.

The one who'd first spotted me asked me had I a bottle opener. I said I had.

The next day

It was a desperate lie, told by a frightened young man....

I went into the kitchen and grabbed the old-style soft-steel combination can-opener and bottle-opener. The modern-style corkscrew/bottle-opener would have shattered on the pavement stones.

She opened the bottle — of WKD red (whatever flavor that is,) or some other such alco-pop drink. She feared she'd bust a window throwing the opener back up to me as I'd asked. I knew that wasn't true, the angle disallowing a girl to accidentally bounce the thing off the window with enough force to break it.

She said she'd bring it up the stairs around the corner.

So okay.

_________

The next day, I was going away from my apartment, watching some loitering kids with my recently-accustomed wariness — the mere act of which seems to make them behave with more respect — when I looked up and saw that same girl, as she was standing talking with a friend.

She lit up, saying "well" — the common greeting here; and I said hi how're ya doing.

It seems odd that opening a bottle of alcohol for a teen girl could be the right thing to do — but it was....

Later in the evening, that same next day again, I saw her — this time, as on the day before, from a window upstairs. In this case (I'd heard a noise) I looked out to see her sort of bumping the butt of a glass bottle against a boarded-up window panel.

It was only a sort of quasi- or proto-vandalistic motion, and girlish. But it's the little things, where it all begins....

I asked her please don't do that. "Oh, sorry," she said, and stopped.


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