This weekend I went back to my roots to the scenic County Limerick village of Galbally to watch the historic rugby victory in the local pub. I managed to get back in time for the game and I even survived for another couple of hours after the match finished. My memory of the rest of the evening is sketchy at best, but I do know I was home and in bed well before Cinderella Time. I was a bit worse for wear the next day and declined my brother’s offer to spend another day in the pub. That was yesterday and today I came back to Limerick. It was great to get back, but a sudden realisation dawned on me as I approached my front door: I didn’t have my house keys.
I looked in the two front pockets of my jeans as well as the back ones. I looked in all the pockets of my jacket, but I didn’t have them. Fortunately, I had a copy of the front door key in my wallet, so I was able to get in. I phoned my brother and he eventually found them on the floor at the back of a chair. They had obviously fallen out of my pocket after my night of drunken debauchery. As I hadn’t used them since, I presumed they were still in my pocket. So, tonight I’ll be sleeping on the couch in the sitting room. It’s a comfortable couch and it’s not my first time sleeping here and I doubt it’ll be the last. Tomorrow, I’m going to Dublin with my friend John to see Jackson Browne at the Olympia. But first, I’m going to have to cycle into town and buy a brand new key