The Season’s Upon Us 1 comment


The Season’s Upon Us

The front door flung open and a man paused in the doorway letting in what little daylight existed as well as the snow storm that had raged all day. An enormous, billowy cloud of heat and smoke escaped through the open door. Imaginative passersby might believe a giant dragon was devouring the locals. Instead it was merely another Christmas Eve lunch at The Tap Room.

“Shut the damn door, Robert.” said Jay, the giant bartender, and the entire bar echoed his command. “SHUT THE DAMN DOOR, ROBERT.”

Laughter erupted. Robert made his way to the only open bar stool. He couldn’t help smiling when Jay slid him a glass of Bushmills on the rocks and gave him a pair of finger guns. Removing his coat and placing it over the bar stool, he greeted his frequent neighbor, Kay. Then he bent to pet Bumbles, the Great Pyrenees beside her.

“How’s the family, Robert?” said Jay as he placed a Dropkick Murphys disc into the CD player and pressed play.

“Terrific,” said Robert, “I don’t have to see them for three hours yet.”

Kay snorted a laugh as Bumbles tilted his head, panted, and raised an eye. “It can’t be that bad, can it?” she said. Bumbles whimpered and laid down.

“Can’t be that bad? Let me tell you how last Christmas went.” he said. “Ma woke up early and put on her favorite blue dress and white shoes. She didn’t care if it was after Labor Day. She spent the morning making pie crusts. Da spent the morning drinking whiskey. Ma filled most of the crusts with Shepherd’s Pie. Da filled the last one with vomit. Into the oven they all went.”

A loud Ewwww emitted from the nearby crowd listening to the tales.

A toast broke out behind them. “Here’s to the lady with the white shoes. Take all your money, drink all your booze. Ain’t got a cherry, that ain’t no sin. She’s still got the box that the cherry come in.”

Robert waved his arms at the crowd behind him begging them to stop.

“That’s m’Ma you’re talking about.” said Robert. He turned back to Kay.

“My nephew has had a rough go of it. He’s gone from girlfriend to girlfriend to girlfriend , none of them lasting to the next federal holiday because he’s a real piece of work, you know? So he and one of his chippie’s got themselves into meth… got so into it they managed to burn down their apartment. His physical health is even worse. So many teeth have fallen out that he’s a human whistle! His ma, not wanting him to break Christmas tradition, now wants him to continue caroling with the family. Except instead of singing, he’s doing the penny whistle parts.”

“That’s terrible.” said Jay.

“They call this Christmas where I’m from.” said Robert


Inspired by Dropkick Murphys – The Season’s Upon Us

CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.


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