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Missed my birthday

Another tale of drinking in Ireland — just not on the right day

March 2002, Kilkenny Ireland —

Friday was my birthday but J_ had gotten the word out that it was Thursday. All the folks were drinking Thursday night. They all went to Langton's in fact. I passed, because I'd had a late night on Tuesday and had appeared at work smelling of drink. Oops. Fortunately, Yvonne was hassling Trevor about some union stuff; and I'm doing good work; and it's Ireland. But I didn't feel like pushing my luck on Friday morning.

By Friday, everybody was hurting. M_ was "in bits," and J_ was "dying." I was fine. There wasn't a big initiative to get me out on my birthday. E_ tried, but I wasn't in the humor. Seldom am, to go to a late club. Funny that I sort of missed my birthday party--or it missed me. Funny thing was that, standing around the pool table at Syd's, I realized that by the Solar clock, I really was 38 years old at around 8:30 Thursday night in Ireland. Of course, nobody calculated this and this had nothing to do with the fact that people thought Thursday was the day.

Anyhow they all got scuttered. Legless.