the happiest half hours of life

Afternoon tea at Gargoyles Cafe in the South Kildare heartland town of Athy.
The proprietor Caitriona Edgar approaches.
"James," she says brightly. "Myself and my sister are getting our heads shaved for charity next month. Could you give us a little publicity?"
It is as if the whole cafe falls quiet.
"Well Caitriona," sez I, "The Johnston Press have fired me from the Leinster Leader. So I wouldn't really be in a position to publish anything there."
Caitriona doesn't bat an eyelid.
"No, no, no," quoth she, "I meant on your blog."
I thought rather well of her for it.
She disappeared towards the kitchen.
At an adjoining table I could see Irish member of parliament Sean O'Fearghail and local Councillor Mark Dalton quaffing and chewing rhythmically.
They are both members of Ireland's kleptocratic Fianna Fail governing party.
It was a while since I'd had any contact with either of them.
Let me see.
The last time I saw Councillor Dulltone was three years ago in the Town Council chamber in Athy where he'd declaimed during a political debate: "James Healy never reports anything I do in the Leinster Leader."
I for my part had risen slowly to my feet and eyeballed him dangerously from the press bench.
The other Councillors had looked at me a tad warily.
They thought I was nuts and weren't absolutely sure I wouldn't do something nutty.
I gathered up my things and strolled across the chamber, giving the door a good bang on the way out.
The last thing I heard was Labour Councillor John Lawler saying to Cllr Dulltone: "I don't think you'll be in the Leinster Leader this week either."
Ah memories.
Deputy O'Fearghail had always been a much more polite kettle of kleptocrats.
My last contact with him was to write to him after being fired from the Leinster Leader.
I think I asked him to lobby the President or something.
(President of what? - Snake Plisskan note.)
Anyway O'Fearghail's the old school Fianna Fail.
They may destroy the country but at least they've got people skills.
Back to the present.
The cafe hummed with life.
The two politicians stood up.
I wondered would they make any smart remarks on their way out.
What on earth would I say if they got cheeky?
I could try my standard patented shouting obscenities routine: "F--- off you corrupt b-ll-x-s."
The problem being that Fianna Failers aren't shy about standing up for themselves.
They're notoriously well walked, as we do say in the heckling trade.
Apparently they've learnt a thing or two during their fifty years governing the country.
They probably wouldn't hurry away from any embarassing confrontation.
There'd be a significant chance they'd give as good as they got.
They might even out vulgar the vulgarian.
How about this...
What if I said: "Good afternoon gentleman. How the mighty have fallen since I saw you last. I am of course referring to myself and not to the sad position of Fianna Fail in the opinion polls."
Too wordy.
I'd never remember it all.
Or I'd muff it in the heat of the moment.
Something simpler is called for.
Along the lines of...
"What an irony that I should be eating in Gargoyles cafe and you two gargoyles should appear!"
Great Scott no.
Much too dangerous.
Councillor Dulltone is a member of Fianna Fail but his brother Des is National Vice Chairman of Republican Sinn Fein.
Republican Sinn Fein is a splinter group from Sinn Fein, which Sinn Fein considers too extreme even for Sinn Fein.
Let me put it this way.
They're not pacifists.
What if Councillor Dulltone set his brother on me?
"James Healy called me a gargoyle. Boo, hoo, hoo."
Aiieee caramba.
I gotta tell you folks.
It would be a braver man than me that would call any Dulltone a gargoyle to his face.
And now they're approaching my table.
Councillor Dulltone stalks by head in the air.
Deputy O'Fearghail says: "How are you James?"
And exits.
That's it.
A certain dearth of high drama.
Almost an anti climax.
But hey.
At least nobody died.
And it's Sunday in the heartland.
I gotta work with the material they give me.