quackser fortune has a cousin in the bronx
"Would you like a humour column, love?"
The words were mine, spoken in a whimsical Dublin accent to a flower seller on Grafton street who goggled appropriately as though I were a loon.
The flower sellers of Grafton street are notoriously tough women. Often if you pause for thought as you walk through this hallowed thoroughfare, such a lady will appear at your shoulder with the faintly insistent murmur in pure Dublinese: "Would you like flowers love?"
I've spent ten months getting up the courage to try out my own version of this sales pitch on one of them.
Ten months since the cancellation of my humour column in the Leinster Lootheramawn.
Ah.
Life goes on.
The words were mine, spoken in a whimsical Dublin accent to a flower seller on Grafton street who goggled appropriately as though I were a loon.
The flower sellers of Grafton street are notoriously tough women. Often if you pause for thought as you walk through this hallowed thoroughfare, such a lady will appear at your shoulder with the faintly insistent murmur in pure Dublinese: "Would you like flowers love?"
I've spent ten months getting up the courage to try out my own version of this sales pitch on one of them.
Ten months since the cancellation of my humour column in the Leinster Lootheramawn.
Ah.
Life goes on.
posted by heelers | 12:26 AM
2 Comments:
The stars shine.
The sun rises again
Brighter than before
The grass is greener ahead
The children smarter
and as we move on
we are older.
Pages with more stories.
Isn't that a nice thing to be?
We can smile to ourselves.
PS: You don't need a humour column! You will have a film and Plan BHQ and LUD and JRTs (secrets)
Oops Chamkie, you did it again.
J
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