Let’s call it off everyone. The jig is up. They caught us. The house parties are going to have to stop. We thought they were thrown off the scent with the whole furore over the meat factories and Direct Provision. Alas, no, they saw through the smaller story and have stopped us in our tracks.
Since the conditions in meat factories and direct provision centres, which were already well known, were thrust into the public eye, I felt a glimmer of hope that we could keep partying forever. No matter what age we were, our eternal youth was upon us. The government would do their duty, shutting down the meat factories and finding proper accomodation for the asylum seekers in the centres, or at least providing adequate space to tackle Covid in these places.
I envisioned a future of house parties. We wouldn’t even live in our own houses anymore. We’d travel from house to house, a fresh bag of cans awaiting us at each door. A disinterested but attractive woman would be making a drink at the kitchen counter, make awkward eye contact with us and we would never see her again. It would be just like the original house parties where awkwardness and false confidence collided in a utopia of drunkenness.
In my vision I saw all the different groups coming together. The G.A.A. crowd mixing with the awkward guys. The group from the rougher part of town talking to the emo kids. I saw it all before me in a perfect palette of Dutch Gold and cigarette smoke grey.
We have to give it to Micheál and the gang. They didn’t fall for the red herring. Sure, they must know that the majority of the nation is complying with social distancing and staying indoors as much as possible in a country that, like the rest of Europe, is driven by economy and trying to get people back working. They also know that the recent outbreak of cases and the consistent rise in numbers of cases over the last few weeks was due to outbreaks in meat processing plants in Kildare, Laois and Offaly, and horrifying conditions for asylum seekers in Direct Provision centres such as the one in Cahersiveen, Co. Kerry.
But, on a much more real and plausible level, they know that giving the Gardaí special powers to enter private homes, something that is protected in the Constitution, and limiting the number of people at amateur sporting events, while allowing exceptions for mass and weddings, is the right thing to do.
So, that’s it guys and gals. No more house parties. We have to go to the…*shudders*…pub.
The Rathpeacon Rambler 