Barry’s Rants: The Office

His gravelly voice caught my attention as I rounded the corner. Sitting on one of the slabs outside the GPO, he was bringing a freshly lit cigarette up to his mouth, shielded by a cupped hand. I hadn’t seen him in months. A part of me selfishly wanted to keep walking and act as if I was in a hurry and hadn’t seen him. A little hollow opened up in my stomach and I nearly died of the shame and the embarrassment with myself. I pulled out a cigarette of my own and strolled in his direction. As I neared I called out his name. His diminutive figure twisted around and he craned his neck, struggling to make me out in the sunlight. He pushed back a lock of grey hair from his eyes and began to laugh.

All right kid?! Jesus, bai, I haven’t seen you in ages! I thought you were avoidin’ me to be honest. Are you still writing away, you are? You’re not?! What do you mean, not really? For feck sake, bai, if you’re good at it keep it up. I don’t know if you’re good or not to be honest. You could be shit for all I know like.

You still in the cinema? I’ll be in there next week for some popcorn. I love the stuff. I didn’t know for years you could just buy it. Like, you didn’t have to actually go watch a film. I spent hours of my life watching absolute shite just to fill my mouth with buttery, buttery goodness. The wife was convinced I was having an affair with one of the girls in the local bakery! I don’t know why I kept it so secret. Didn’t really want to share my popcorn I suppose!
Oh, you’re finished up? And where are you now? Ah Jesus, you were always a cute one. A feckin’ data entry job. You’re some hoor. Lounging around the cinema and now sitting on your arse making good money for doing nathing!

Oh I used to work in an office myself. Well, it was a mixture of warehouse and the office, but mainly I was sitting on my hole either in the forklift or the office chair. Some craic, man. There was a good crew of us and we’d all go on break at the same time. I’d say we couldn’t cook toast between all of us, about seven or eight lads and if we were kicked out of home we’d die within the night from hunger! Anyways, we’d all go to the shop together and get a roll or a sandwich whatever every day. By God, did we bankroll that feckin’ shop. Small little unassuming place. Lovely area and a lovely shop, and by God did they make their money off of us. I’d say they were rubbing their hands together with glee when we walked in. Gained a bit of weight in that office, HA! They weren’t long being unassuming. Assuming all our fucking money!
We used go on small break as well. Fuck it, it was like school all over again. Start at 8, small break at ten, lunch at 12, another little break at 2, finish at 4. Good money too for doing sweet FA. Maybe we’re more alike than you think, young Dalton.

Where is this office you’ve been banging on about? Little Island? Jaysus, I’d say you have some trek there every morning. I’d hear about the traffic on the radio like, dya know? I’d say it’s torture. Although I suppose you have the radio to listen to, and every boy and his dog has a feckin’ smartphone now so I assume you can play music on the car too?
No, I keep it simple now and stay at an iPhone 8 plus, I needs a big screen…What’s so feckin’ funny??


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