“Once upon a time,” Francis ‘Elder Lemon’ Lenihan opined, “the old line about how ‘the world would be a much better place‘ blah, blah, was the ‘Won’t somebody think of the children‘ piety of its day.”
Lenihan was listing to fellow warehouse employee, Stephen Higgins, just some of the many ways in which an earlier generations of virtue-signallers like Bridie Tutty, continually attempted to draw favourable attention to herself.
“God help the police, I wouldn’t like to have to do their job,” he said, “is one?”
“Can anyone tell me why politicians are paid so much“, he continued, “that’s another.”
“The poor farmers, their crops’ll be ruined if we don’t get a drop of rain soon”, he added.
“Something’ll have to be done about the homeless – it’s not right, it’s not right.”
“When God closes a door, he opens a window“.
“And this is important why?” Higgins asked impatiently, as he waited for his friend to finish preparing a ‘Camberwell Carrot’ for them.
“Because,” Lenihan warned, “she is not somebody you wanna get stuck next to on the Dublin to Galway train?”
Finally ‘the lemon’ lit up, inhaled and looked at his friend severely.
“Especially,” he said, “when the goddamn bar is closed”.
Which was why, he clarified, he’d generously given up his seat to the obese, methane-producing gentleman with the knuckle tattoos, standing in the aisle beside them.
“After all,” he said, exhaling at length as he handed the carrot over, “it’s important to give something back too”.