Friday, November 10, 2006

Bridal wave.

Holy moly...I am flumoxed, more flumoxed than ususal even.(Snaglepuss)
Last night I was out and about. Having finished a particularly hard day of most tedious work, I was busily downing the nectar that is rum with some delightful company, Country gay, my good friend Tara and my brother, who also was good enough to come out of a Thursday and play pool and sup pints...
Half way through the night, while the booze was flowing, insults flying and the pool tables full of scars and scuffs, my brother receives a phone call on his mobile.
His good lady wife I thought, chalking my cue and offering to shove it where the sun don't shine to a laughing Tara.
But no.
'Yeah, she's here.' He says, before pulling a puzzled face and handing me his phone.
Terror folks, terror filled me. Why would someone track me down unless something was wrong?
'Hello?'
'You've got to get- '
The terror increased.'Etheline?'
'-a fucking mobile. Where are you?'
'Ranelagh, playing pool-'
'Meet me in Rath....'
'What?'
'Rathmines! I need to talk to you.'
'Etheline, I'm in the middle of a game.'
'Please Cat.'
Yikes. That floored me.
'What's going on? Where in Rathmines?'
'Meet me in Toast.'
'What's wrong?'
Click
She had hung up on me, the preppy gee bag. I hate when people do that too.
'She okay?' My brother asked.
'How would I know?'I said helpfully.
'Are you okay?'
'Dandy.'
Then, like a common News of the World "journalist" with a 450 a night hooker, I made my excuses and left.
I walked to Rathmines, grumpily yanking the heads off flowers as I did so and refusing to give way to couples walking the opposite direction. I entered said bar bar and found Etheline viciously guarding a whole table, alone.
'You came.' She said, eyeing me, weeply, mistily, pisstily.
'Of course I bloody came.' I plonked down in the seat beside her. 'What's up?'
'I can't do it Cat, I can't do it.'
'You can't do what?'
'Marry him.'
'That Kevin?'
'Yeah...him.'
'I don't understand. What's happened? Did you have a fight?'
'He brushes his teeth funny.'
'He does what?'
'Brushes his teeth funny. You should see it sckikkkkskkikkis scrikkk, siiiiirrkk skiiiirjk.'
'Etheline stop doing hand actions.' I say dragging her hand away. People are looking.
Man, my sister is plastered.
'I can't live with that forever.' She looks at me wild eyes, 'I'll go crazy.'
'OK.....ay.' Go crazy I'm trying to think.
'Whatcha wanna drink?'She waves at the floor girl who has walked past twice now without making any eye contact.
'Nothing I'm fine.'
'Yeah right.'
'Okay, rum then, Havana.'
She finally orders two rum and cokes.
We talk some more. It appears it's not just the teeth brushing -not that I thought it was. She has been worried about marriage for some time, then I had lunch with my mother and in a disgusting attempt to stop my mother from asking about me and the paramour, I set my mother on Etheline. Etheline deserved it a the time, but my mother has been going on about 'setting a date' like some kind of rabid lavender wearing pitbull, thus pushing my hardly stable at the best of times sister clean over the edge.
'It's your fault,' she says, spilling rum on me.
'Probably' I say. 'Etheline, lets go home. You can stay in my house tonight.'
'Lets get chips!'
Man, she is drunk. Etheline probably hasn't eaten chips since...I don't know actually.
We go to Burdocks and get chips. We walk the 2k back to my apartment.
By the time we get home she is tired AND drunk AND full.
I make up the spare room.
'G'night.'
'Good night daring, don't worry, everything will be okay.' I say, for I do love her, desperately. I want her to be happy, she doesn't look happy tonight.
Twenty minutes after she falls asleep my brother calls. He is downstairs.
'I just wanted to check that you were okay.'
'Come on up.'
He comes up, we crack open a bottle of wine. I tell him everything Etheline has said, well, not everything, some things are not for others, right?
'Is she serious?'
'I don't know.' I say tickling Puddy's pink belly with my toes. The bigger of the cats is lying sprawled on my brother's lap, the old attention seeking whore.
And it's true, I don't know. Nobody ever knows with Etheline.
'What are you thinking?' He asks.
'I'm hoping I get to be the one to tell Mam.'
'Jesus.'
'I know, I'm a bad person.'
'It's not that, I'm thinking how she's going to react.'
We pull identical faces and hastily pour more wine.

So here I am this morning, confused and twitchy. Etheline was up and gone long before I opened an eye. But she left me a note saying thanks and ordering me not tell anyone about last night. I have called my brother and sworn him to silence.
What does it all mean? What's going on? Was she serious? Will she change her mind? Should I have toast or Wheatabix? Too many questions too early on a Friday.

22 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

About that not telling anyone thing.....

Anyway its true people do get irritated by the way others brush their teeth. You see its the first thing you do in the morning and so it can ruin your whole day thinking about it.

10:54 a.m.  
Blogger fatmammycat said...

You're right of course Macdara, it is always the little things that eventually wear a person down. People who spit and live a residue in the sink. People who will not rinse out the shower after use, thus leaving pubes all over the camp and stuck in the soap, other folk who leave their jocks in the bidet when they take a shower and forget about them, folk who won't use coasters, people who cut their toenails in bed, people who hum and sing first thing in the morning, people who say they will post things and yet still haven't donew so after a week has gone by. Very small things, yet oh so annoying.

11:01 a.m.  
Blogger Student said...

You are a good person to drop everything and go to the rescue like that. When all is in the shitter and your pissed you need a sister to come and get you, buy you chips and put you to bed.

Whether she marries the toothbrush bandit or not she's lucky.

11:06 a.m.  
Blogger Student said...

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

11:07 a.m.  
Blogger Student said...

bloody thing. I meant you're.

11:08 a.m.  
Blogger fatmammycat said...

I give out about Etheline because she drives me up the walls, but she would do the very same for me too.

11:44 a.m.  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

She's messed up enough about it to get hammered before she can talk about it because it's making her feel so guilty. Sobering up's not going to make that feeling go away, just easier to hide.

I don't think it's true to say drink makes a "true personality" come out (in fact, I think that's bollocks), but drink does have a tendency to enhance stuff normally kept buried and make you babble when you'd normally say nothing.

So, in my opinion, nip it in the bud - at least say your piece on it, so that you've got a clear conscience. If she still wants to go ahead, that's up to her, but at least you won't look back and think, I could've done something about that but didn't.

Better a pound of misery now than a ton of it after a few years of unhappy marriage.

12:20 p.m.  
Blogger FINN said...

do you think it's the person (the brusher) or the institution (of mawiage, twoo wuv) that's making her balk?

maybe etheline's better off perpetually engaged, with Partner, and maybe your mom should just accept that. right, and maybe our Commander in Chief will sprout a brain.

i hope she's better today. you are a dear for being there.

12:27 p.m.  
Blogger fatmammycat said...

I think she's just getting a touch of cold feet.
I blame our mother-naturally- she would drive anyone insane. She's like a dog with a bloody bone sometimes. She's angling for a Summer wedding you see, so she's upping the ante big time. And lately she's been using the 'you aren't getting any younger' line, which is a load of crap and just means 'I'M not getting any younger.' That Kevin is what Irish mammies call a 'good catch' so she has put a great deal of her stock in this wedding, rubbing Aunts and others up the wrong way and so on. Vile Lilac Witch.

12:45 p.m.  
Blogger Dr Maroon said...

Give me her phone number.
I don't brush my teeth. (Scottish)

8:11 p.m.  
Blogger Dr Maroon said...

Give me her phone number.
I don't brush my teeth. (Scottish)

8:12 p.m.  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Kav's on the ball.There is something else going on here and the teeth brushing thing is all your sis can lock on to.She may or may not know what that is but she does know that something ain't right.
The drink amplified that sense of wrongness (I know all about wrongness,belive me)and got her down.The tender mercies of your Ma has me fuming btw.
Keep on doing what you do and leave the door open for her (like you'd ever close it) I suspect there'll be more to follow.

5:23 a.m.  
Blogger Unknown said...

If your brother can cope with your mother have him launch a counter attack the next time she mentions the wedding to him... anything along the lines of suggesting Ethyl will elope rather than give Mummy the 'day out' if mother ever mentions the wedding again... Anything that will pass muster - between the lines - as "shut the fuck up," in the leafy groves of South Dublin.
Btw, when are youself and Paramour naming 'the day'? :)

1:00 p.m.  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Great post i really enjoyed reading it.


Danny

2:21 p.m.  
Blogger Boliath said...

Cold feet? PMS? I've been with my man for a long long time, sometimes he does something normal like brushing his teeth and yes I want to yank the brush out of his hand and ram it in his eye - usually PMS or a manifestation of a deeper irritation. Poor Etheline, you are a good sister to go and save her and your brother deserves some kudos for coming to check up on ye. Ah families, what would we do without them?

8:17 p.m.  
Blogger fatmammycat said...

Not around the bend?

10:26 p.m.  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Weetabix. Definitely.

11:31 p.m.  
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