PANENKA by Rónán Hession

Author:Rónán Hession
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bluemoose Books Ltd
Published: 2021-03-09T05:53:35+00:00

Chapter 17: Bingo’s

Bingo’s was what they would call in America a ‘sports bar’. It had large screens on the walls like fake windows and was lit by garish blue strip lights that made the place feel like an aquarium. For all their luminescence, the lights only seemed to illuminate themselves, meaning that anyone sitting at the bar trying to read had to concentrate right at the edge of their headache threshold. Ostensibly, it was a place for watching sports but the reality was that the sports were purely there to create an atmosphere and to provide a theme for the place, along with the crucified registration plates on the walls and glass cases of what might be called memorabilia, though they belonged to nobody’s memories in particular. Seneca fans never went there. It was an after-work drinking hole for unfussy water buffaloes with loosened ties; a place where loud people could hang out together like they were normal; a place where white clothes glowed and where detergent showed up on dark clothes; and a place where a middle-aged man who considered himself urbane and open minded, yet who was often disappointed by his fellow man, could read the same translation of Montaigne that he had been reading for many months, through his spare glasses with his old prescription.

It was not hard for Panenka to find BABA, who stood out at the bar like a lone burnt-out bulb.

‘It’s great to see Montaigne’s work being read as intended: in a room full of horny thugs, under hooker lights,’ said Panenka, inviting himself onto the neighbouring stool.

‘Judgement of others is the hallmark of the ego,’ responded BABA.

‘You left your glasses behind in, shall I say, the other place, or is it acceptable for me to say Vincent’s? I don’t want to interrupt your sulk after all.’

‘Thank you. I have a spare pair, but it’s thoughtful of you to bring them by.’

‘Where’s your crème de menthe? Or don’t they do it in pitchers.’

‘I asked but they don’t stock it here.’

‘They might order it in if you’re a regular. Maybe ask him,’ suggested Panenka, pointing to a beefy barman who looked like he had recently finished military service.

‘The staff here are taciturn. Probably because it’s so loud, which makes it harder for them to engage in conversation with their customers.’

‘Yeah, it is noisy. Doesn’t that bother you? How can you concentrate?’

‘I did ask about turning it down, but they said they’re not allowed to touch the settings.’

‘Couldn’t you have picked somewhere else to stage your exile – what about The Crooked Clock or Abdul’s?’

‘Everywhere is taken.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘The more conversational hostelries are like Vincent’s and have their regulars – their lifers – so you can’t simply arrive in and declare yourself part of their conversations. It isn’t how it’s done.’

‘You don’t have to do that, but you could read at the bar like you always do and then gradually nature would take its course. It’s not like you ever fully joined the conversation at Vincent’s while you were there.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.