“Tipperary hammered a fair auld job on Kilkenny yesterday”, said I earlier today to Mikey Ryan. We were above in the Arch Bar in Liberty Square, Thurles, having a pint, while waiting for the Tipperary hurlers to arrive home, carrying the Liam McCarthy cup.
“They sure did”, replied a somewhat down-in-the-mouth Mikey, “a whole 14 points no less, still it’s because of them that I could be joining the Dole queue come Friday night”.
“In the name of God, how could the Tipperary Senior Hurling team be responsible for you being shunted onto a dole queue?”, said I, with raised eyebrows.
“Sure”, said Mikey, “didn’t I tell that feckin Kilkenny boss of mine that my uncle Johnny, had died, the one above in Kildare, and he gave me compassionate leave time last Thursday evening to attend the funeral on Friday”.
“Jasus you never said your Uncle Johnny died; may the Lord have mercy on him and had I known I could have gone up to the funeral” said I, somewhat taken aback, I can tell you, by this unexpected news, after all we were in the same class in the CBS. “And tell me”, I continued somewhat shocked, “was it sudden or had he been complaining?”.
“No, sure Johnny isn’t dead at all”, said Mikey, lowering his voice to a mere whisper, “he’s very much in the land of the living”.
“You see the whole truth is” continued Mikey in low tones, “I managed to obtained two tickets for the Tipp / Kilkenny match; sure all I wanted was to get the Friday off, so that herself and myself could head up to me sister-in-law’s place near Croke Park, staying over till after the match”.
“So why didn’t you take a ‘sicky’ like everyone else”, said I, somewhat relieved by the emerging facts.
“I got in to feckin work on the early shift this morning and there he was, waggling his index finger, beckoning me”, said Mikey.
“Do you”, says he, “believe in life after death?”
“Most certainly not”, says I confidently, “sure when you study that nonsense in detail, you’ll eventually come to the conclusion there’s not a morsel of proof in any such belief.”
“Well, there is now”, said my boss man, “because after you left here on Thursday evening to go to your uncle Johnny’s funeral in Kildare on Friday, didn’t the same uncle Johnny arrive in here looking for you”.
“Sure, you might, when you’re not too busy”, says he, “call into my office tomorrow for a more in-depth discussion on this unusual ghostly phenomenon”.
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