can’t stay in this apartment. When one of my friends went on vacation last summer for three weeks, I hid her cat in my apartment. I don’t think I could hide a baby.
A baby? I think that’s the first time I actually thought the word. A baby. A little boy? A little girl? Mine. My little boy. My little girl. Oh my God, this is real. A little person growing inside of me. A little person who I’m responsible for. Who needs me. Needs me to step up to the plate. Danny can afford to have morals and everyone can have their fucking opinion. I can’t.
Maybe I can do this. Be a mother? Be a good mother. Me. A mother. My mother a grandmother? She’ll freak out.
Oh, God. I wish that I could just stop crying…
Yaaaaaaaahhhh.
The closer I get to downtown, the more nauseating the smell of vomit is. Every couple of blocks I confront someone’s afternoon’s discharge on the sidewalk. I pause to barf, but only dry retch, and lean against a bus stop until the sensation has passed. Passers-by are quick to judge, and throw me their ‘holier than thou’ glances. I’m so glad I’ve moved out of the Temple Bar area. It’ll be a minefield of puke puddles tonight, if it isn’t already.
When Ricky offered me that job in Broderick’s, I almost jumped over the bar at him right there and then. It’s further out on the south side, so it gets mostly an indigenous crowd. Not that I’m xenophobic in any way, how could I be? Everyone still gets pretty much bombed, but it isn’t as sloppy. Tonight is an exception though. The Irish can handle their drink. What they can’t handle is the sun.
You gotta pace yourself in this weather. Drink plenty of water, otherwise you dehydrate, and the alcohol is like a fucking mini twister in your head. They should put, like, a government health announcement on the TV or something. And while they’re at it, how about a few fashion tips on how to dress for the sun. They’re so used to wearing dark colors throughout the year that it’s like they’re color blind when the sun comes out.
I know Ricky was a little wasted that night he asked me to come work for him at his bar, and I know he was attracted to me and all, and perhaps I did even lead him on a little, but I was getting desperate to get out of that place. The two brothers who run it are a couple of jerks, and I was going to leave anyway, but I guess I’m the type of girl who likes to have a firm grip on one branch before she lets go of the other.
Danny usually drops by on a Friday to say hi. Sometimes he’ll have his boys with him. Nick is his closest friend, and he seems to be coming out of his shell a bit more lately. I miss Aoife. She was good for Nick. They were both set in their ways, like an old married couple, but they were good together. I know plenty of girls who’d love to find someone like him, but I don’t think he’s quite ready yet for anything too serious.
Charlie will be working the room as usual, if he’s there. He says he’s an actor, but I’m from California where every other person who isn’t an actor is trying to be one. Either that or a scriptwriter. I know tons of actors, and I know he ain’t no actor. He has that whole Brad Pitt in
Thelma and Louise
look going on, but that’s it. No versatility whatsoever. As for that other sleaze ball, Liam, I don’t think he’s actually ever looked at any part of me except my breasts.
The bar is busier than usual for a Friday evening. I haven’t seen the place this busy since the Celtic Tiger days. A lot of office staff extending their after work drinks, the sensible ones already well gone. I nod to Ricky behind the bar, and he waves. I say hi to a few familiar faces as I make my way to the back. I can’t see Danny or any of the others, and can’t decide if I’m disappointed or relieved. I still haven’t eaten yet, so I head over to the kitchen to see if I can make myself a sandwich or something, but when I get there, I feel nauseous again, and drink a very
A baby? I think that’s the first time I actually thought the word. A baby. A little boy? A little girl? Mine. My little boy. My little girl. Oh my God, this is real. A little person growing inside of me. A little person who I’m responsible for. Who needs me. Needs me to step up to the plate. Danny can afford to have morals and everyone can have their fucking opinion. I can’t.
Maybe I can do this. Be a mother? Be a good mother. Me. A mother. My mother a grandmother? She’ll freak out.
Oh, God. I wish that I could just stop crying…
Yaaaaaaaahhhh.
The closer I get to downtown, the more nauseating the smell of vomit is. Every couple of blocks I confront someone’s afternoon’s discharge on the sidewalk. I pause to barf, but only dry retch, and lean against a bus stop until the sensation has passed. Passers-by are quick to judge, and throw me their ‘holier than thou’ glances. I’m so glad I’ve moved out of the Temple Bar area. It’ll be a minefield of puke puddles tonight, if it isn’t already.
When Ricky offered me that job in Broderick’s, I almost jumped over the bar at him right there and then. It’s further out on the south side, so it gets mostly an indigenous crowd. Not that I’m xenophobic in any way, how could I be? Everyone still gets pretty much bombed, but it isn’t as sloppy. Tonight is an exception though. The Irish can handle their drink. What they can’t handle is the sun.
You gotta pace yourself in this weather. Drink plenty of water, otherwise you dehydrate, and the alcohol is like a fucking mini twister in your head. They should put, like, a government health announcement on the TV or something. And while they’re at it, how about a few fashion tips on how to dress for the sun. They’re so used to wearing dark colors throughout the year that it’s like they’re color blind when the sun comes out.
I know Ricky was a little wasted that night he asked me to come work for him at his bar, and I know he was attracted to me and all, and perhaps I did even lead him on a little, but I was getting desperate to get out of that place. The two brothers who run it are a couple of jerks, and I was going to leave anyway, but I guess I’m the type of girl who likes to have a firm grip on one branch before she lets go of the other.
Danny usually drops by on a Friday to say hi. Sometimes he’ll have his boys with him. Nick is his closest friend, and he seems to be coming out of his shell a bit more lately. I miss Aoife. She was good for Nick. They were both set in their ways, like an old married couple, but they were good together. I know plenty of girls who’d love to find someone like him, but I don’t think he’s quite ready yet for anything too serious.
Charlie will be working the room as usual, if he’s there. He says he’s an actor, but I’m from California where every other person who isn’t an actor is trying to be one. Either that or a scriptwriter. I know tons of actors, and I know he ain’t no actor. He has that whole Brad Pitt in
Thelma and Louise
look going on, but that’s it. No versatility whatsoever. As for that other sleaze ball, Liam, I don’t think he’s actually ever looked at any part of me except my breasts.
The bar is busier than usual for a Friday evening. I haven’t seen the place this busy since the Celtic Tiger days. A lot of office staff extending their after work drinks, the sensible ones already well gone. I nod to Ricky behind the bar, and he waves. I say hi to a few familiar faces as I make my way to the back. I can’t see Danny or any of the others, and can’t decide if I’m disappointed or relieved. I still haven’t eaten yet, so I head over to the kitchen to see if I can make myself a sandwich or something, but when I get there, I feel nauseous again, and drink a very
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