I was leaving Fairyhouse the other day,in a mild and inoffensive
manner,a little sadder and wiser than I had been three hours
previously.I had left during the second last race to avoid the
traffic and it was very quiet outside except for the Hawkers who
had been facing the crowds as they entered,now had their stalls
turned towards the exits.
"Any apples or pears,mister ?"
"Ah go on mister,bring 'em home for the youngsters."
"No thanks, sure don't I sell them meself." This usually got me
off the hook but the old crone was persistent.She switched tack.
"Toblerones or chocolate then."
"Ten for a fiver,take your pick,the last few."
"Don't be so mane,go on, for the kids,ten for a fiver."
"They're sick of chocolate,no thanks." If its one thing kids
don't need more of at Easter,its chocolate.Don't talk to me
"Ya grumpy oul' fecker,givvus the fiver anyway."
"Tell you what,come around the back of the stands with me
and earn your fiver."Now this oul' fuck was eighty if she was
a day and could easily have been the foster-mother Mick
Jagger sang about on Jumpin' Jack Flash and I didn't even
think she heard me.Wrong.
"Ya dirty oul' thing,Mary,Mary,did you hear what he said.
Ya dirty thing,ya dirty oul' thing."Her voice got louder
"Mary,did ya hear him,ya dirty oul' thing."
"How much did you say the chocolate was ?"
"I'll sell ya nuthin',ya dirty oul' thing."
I could still hear her giving out as I got into my car,hundreds
of yards away,talk about tail between me legs,I thought out
I'd never get.