Flood

Today

It comes to something when your sister prompts you to write the next blog instalment.

Another of those Internet "getting to know you" quizzes "20 things I'll never forget", which, as usual, I was quick to complete. Beatrice's comment on mine was "more on the fishtank in the till incident, please"

Here goes

In My Day

Was it 1998? We were in Kilcrohane, just Paul, me and the girls. Visits to Eileen's were de rigeur where we usually wound up the day. One of her regulars had paid a visit to Skibereen fair where they'd won a fish. You know, one of those wretched creatures in a plastic bag circling hopelessly with a vacant expression.

With a grand gesture they gave the fish to Eileen, who now had to locate a fishtank and somewhere to put it. She found a tank from somewhere and squeezed it into the tiny space above the till below the wine bottles. This was before the smoking ban which might be why the fish itself didn't last more than 48 hours, or maybe it didn't like the noise or the journey back from Skibereen. The expired fish was removed but somehow Eileen didn't quite get around to removing the tank.

Saturday night was, as usual, crowded and noisy at Eileen's. Vigorous discussions, jokes, flirting and snatches of song. Somehow, no-one noticed that it was way past closing time, as we all partied. Eileen just kept on pouring the Guinnesses and taking the money, faster and faster.

All these rapid movements were her undoing; with a sweeping gesture she knocked the fishtank into the open till. Water got into works and the till started spewing out paper receipts without stopping. As these curled onto the floor, the punters demanded more drinks and laughed even louder, Eileen tried to get onto her support helpline. It was about half-past twelve at night, so the helpdesk was probably on skeleton staff. Eileen couldn't hear what they told her, couldn't hear herself speak and the till kept on churning. Using her vast store of expletives, Eileen told her customers to shut up. Which instruction they completely ignored, shouting jibes and encouragement.

I don't know how the evening finished; I expect the till ran out of paper. Eileen decided that she could take money for drinks without a till, business being business. I think she turned the till upside down to shake out the water and hoped for the best.

We left the pub at about one am, stumbling the few yards back to Fawnmore, leaving the revellers who kept things going till about three.

Just another normal day in Kilcrohane, then.