No panic. Mullingar isn't exactly huge! We're on our way to Danny Byrnes. I'll meet them there.
I went into Danny's, which is quite a dark pub and couldn't see them.
"Maybe they're out in the smoking area," I said to myself and out I went. No sign.
As I was on my way back into the bar I had to pass a group of young revellers. I didn't pass any remarks on them, so I can't say how many there were or even if they were all men or were there some women in amongst them. All I heard as I walked by was
"Well hello.....Granny." followed by laughter.
I didn't even lose a step and kept walking. But I was gutted. Now I have absolutely NO problem with my age. I am 46 (let me think, yes that's right) and I never have or never will lie about it. Why should I? I try to live my life to the full and so the more days I have under my belt, the more I have experienced. But why did that asshole have to use me as a victim to put down so as to make himself feel better about himself?And don't you just hate it when you think of the perfect retort......five minutes too late.
I wish I had turned to him with a sweet smile and say
"You're wrong there. I am old enough to be your mother, yes, but not your granny. Also I was a stunner in my day. Whereas you, on the other hand are in your prime, and unfortunately derisory glance up and down this is as good as you're ever going to be. Ah bless.
Another sweet smile.
But I didn't get to do it on time. I went back into the pub and met the women on the way in. I didn't say anything about my encounter but it was putting a dampener on the night for me. We moved onto another pub that had a great band playing and I kinda managed to put of out of my mind.
At the end of the night Helena and I were sitting waiting for the others to come back from the smoking area. Once again I was minding my own business as a group of people were making their way out. A bald man, the same age if not older than myself, commented as he passed,
"Hey you look good....for a granny." and kept walking.
To say I was shell shocked is an understatement. Helena looked at me and gasped
"Did he just say what I think he said?" I couldn't even answer her.
I JUST DON'T GET IT!
I wasn't dressed in twinset, pearls and brogues. Neither was I in a miniskirt, top slashed to my navel with fishnet tights. I don't try to look 26 or even 36. I try to look like a dam good 46 year old. I succeed some of the time. Hey we all have off days. But I'm wrecking my brains trying to think what I did to bring that onslaught of abuse on me from total strangers.
If I had come onto Gobshite #1 in my best cougar impersonation saying
"Come here little boy. I have some sweeties for you" then he would have been perfectly entitled to reply with a "Get lost Granny" comment.
Or if Gobshite #2 had come over to chat me up and I had looked down my nose at him and said
"Get lost, you bald ugly f***er" then he would have been quite right to say "What are you on about, you're a granny"
But I didn't.
I could never be that rude to anyone, so why do they think they can do it to me? I am trying to get it out of my head but I can't. One incident maybe but not two. I am angry with myself for allowing them to not only ruin last night for me, but I am letting them ruin today for me as well. They are probably not even aware of how much they hurt me.
Did they spend last night lying in bed crying their eyes out? Like hell they did.
Are they so full of pent up anger today that if they stood within 2 feet of kindling twigs, they would burst into flames? Not a chance.
But I am. I am pounding away at my laptop in the hope that by writing it down and letting it go into the universe, it will dilute somewhat .
I now fully understand the old saying
There is one thing you need never pack and that's a gobshite.
You will always find one at your destination.
END OF RANT!