It was late summer. I was working the third shift on a Bank holiday, which is our second shift, and it had been painfully slow all night. It was all I could do to stay awake. I was sitting in one of the office chairs, which was far too comfortable, straining against the weight of my eye lids to peer out from the second floor window at the storage yard while the deep azure sky slowly began to lose it's stars. 3am? Maybe 4?
"It's nearly 4", spoke Gordon in his soft Irish accent. "I've these reports done. Let's head out for a smoke, why don't we?"
The air was amazingly crisp and cool. I was staring up at the last few stars left in the vast pool of sky when Gordon snapped me back to earth with a nudge. He was holding a rather large hand-rolled cigarette.
"What if I get a call? What if it's the Gards?" He simply bowed his head after a smile and offered the cigarette to me.
It was good stuff. Thirty minutes later and the sky became electric blue. We spoke about all the conspiracy theories, as you do. 911 was a Hoax. Easter Island was a hoax. Pyramids were a hoax. Easter bunny is a control mechanism, same as Santa. Madrid and London train sabotages were hoaxes. The original target shoulda been Jesse Jackson and not MLK. Speed limits are solely for state profit. FBI is listening to you on your mobile phone. CIA assassinated JFK. Doritos chips are too hard. Jews run the media. Freemasons stuff ballot boxes. Goose Down pillows are really pigeon feathers. Speaking of Doritos, is there a chipper open at this hour? Then the office phone rang.
I was too mellow to panic. I lit up a Lucky Strike and waited for Gordon to finish his phone conversation.
"You're right, of course. Twas the Gards. Out on Walkinstown with a check point."
"Alright, alright, alright - it's go time" I said in my TV announcer's voice as I tossed my half-smoked Lucky to the ground. I almost started off, but paused when I saw the bright red glow on the end of the smoke as it lay alone on the tarmac. I picked it back up, "Sorry, but I need this right now."
I'd driven drunk before. I'm an American, afterall. But never have I driven while my brain was baked. In the early morning air, everything was ever so crisp. Every street light shone brilliantly as if for the first time, while the air above me vibrated. Then it hit me, I was about to meet up with the state police while I was rocked. I laughed.
As I came upon the Walkinstown roundabout, I entered the flood of light released by several police vehicles and their flashing ballards situated for the traffic stop. A female Gardai was standing in the centre of the road. I pulled up to her, stepped out onto the road with her, and said with a smile, "Ms Gard, I swear on my oath this vehicle was insured and taxed last I checked!" She laughed and stated, "Listen, it wouldn't matter to me so long as you drag this car here back to your compound!"
"Deal!" I said as I stuck out my hand, and we shook on it. "You've lovely eyes." I added as I turned and went about my business.
