Closing time at O'Murhpy's

At exactly eleven-ish, closing time is declared in O'Murphy's. a traditional Irish pub, right in the middle of Cardiff. Since the last waitress was mauled by a pint glass, a bullet-proof screen had been erected behind the bar. The bar staff suffocated.

   After the introduction of vents and little post-office-style sliding trays for money exchange, things seemed alot better. However, the sliding trays were abandoned after complaints about the drink. It had to be sucked up with a straw, after it had been poured into the tray. People didn't stand for this sort of thing (they were all pissed anyway), but more importantly, it made the queues very long, and so, business was bad.

   And since someone sawed through the bullet-proof glass and stabbed Jerry O'Cormack, the glass had been removed. And so, things went back to the way they always had been.

  Closing time was very unpopular at O'Murphy's. The Irish have a natural thirst for life, but more vast is their thirst in general. To satisfy it, most try to get a few pints in now and then. The rest try to drown themselves in guiness.

   At the promise of no more alcohol, alcohol-fuelled violence was commonplace, and occassionally, alcohol-fuelled fires.

   What puzzled the barstaff was what so many Irish people were doing in Cardiff anyway. They weren't even in the city centre, they were barely in the outskirts. In fact, they were in the Chinatown of Cardiff. But the cheery Irish-folk still flocked.

   The bar staff all had their own methods of dealing with closing time.

   There was Pam. She used to ring the bell, shout 'last orders!', then close her eyes and hum softly. This proved quite effective, until she once opened her eyes to find the till missing.

   Old Sally had a very effective way of dealing with it. In preparation, she would roll up her sleeves and fetch, not one, but two rolling pins. She would declare closing time and then beat the mob out of the pub. God help a man who got in Sally's way.

   Then there was Old Gareth, who would hide behind the bar, wave a white flag, and don his ARP helmet from the war.

   He was a local war hero. At the insistance of his wife and mother (incest- keep it in the family), Gareth had hid in the woods to avoid the call-up.

   Best of all was O'Murphy himself. He'd simply shoot a few rounds into the ceiling, much to the annoyance of Mrs. O'Murphy, who usually had a bath at around that time. Their bathtub had more plugs than an 12 socket extension lead.

   But, everyone enjoyed themselves, and everyone was happy. Except at closing time.