|Myles Breen – Going away party for Magic|
8pm arrived and there I was still running around looking for my socks, I shouted â€œHave you not ironed my shirt yet !â€
The response I got was both verbal and visual, the former being inappropriate as this is a family blog and the visual bit was a stainless steel pot hurtling past my nose.
Eventually we got on the road after we kissed and made up, it was 8:03pm and we were dead late.
Myles Breenâ€™s was quite with a few local heads propping up the bar as we made our way to the back of the pub.
Doc Tom, Dave,Â Mike O, Magic, Johnny, Emma and Brian our DO were there to greet us,
They were all in a exceptional good mood despite the weather, did someone win the lotto I thought, Dave maybe – he was dressed very smartly but then he was once an ex male model for Brown Thomasâ€™s autumn collection, itâ€™s when I heard thatÂ Coorâ€™s Lite was free, I understood.
We were queuing up of buy each other rounds as if this free promotion exempted us from our previous obligations regarding whoâ€™s round was next.Â Â Â
Coorâ€™s Lite it wasnâ€™t as it began to take effect immediately andÂ the customary â€œbeforeâ€ photograph took a while to organise in fact all the photos had an â€œafterâ€ look about them.
Johnny using some choice hand signals expressed his delight in getting his picture taken over and over, while Dave got very European and began to hug and dance with everyone.
Mike Orth and Doc Tom started their own version of Alas Smith and Jones but this didnâ€™t last very long as Tom kept talking about asteroids, comets and black holes.
Before long Magic disappeared and admitted after interrogation that he was meeting a â€œlady friendâ€, some took this at face value while others thought it to be a financial arrangement with a dancer from his native land. Before he left we wished him all the best in Tenner Reef wherever that was.
Magic was gone …..But it was his round !
Rodger then appeared, took his seat and got a round in, Coorâ€™s of course.Â Â
We continued on celebrating Magicâ€™s departure well into the night, until we all looked the worst for wear and the bar appeared to be stuck in a thermocline,
But itâ€™s wasnâ€™t until someone asked â€œWhoâ€™s Magicâ€ that we knew it was time to go.