So I went to the National Concert Hall on Friday, where the RTE National Symphony Orchestra gave a performance consisting of Beethoven's 4th Symphony, a passage from "Tristan Und Isolde" by Wagner, and 'Tod Und Verklarung" by Richard Strauss.
Live classical recitals would not have been high on my list of things to see, but my Dad had a spare ticket and I said 'Why not?'
It was a highly enjoyable evening, although at one point during the Wagner I almost expected Elmer Fudd to come on and sing "Weturn My Wove". Sadly, this didn't happen, and I went for a couple of pints with my father before he caught his bus home.
I was on my own way home when, feeling hungry, I stopped into Eddie Rocket's Diner on South Anne St. for a bite.
Eddie's is an American-style diner with a '50s motif, and the food is pretty good. At this hour, just before closing time for the pubs and opening time for nightclubs, there weren't many customers, and so I got my food quickly enough.
It was while I was eating that I noticed a commotion at the door.
The bouncer, a large solid guy, was stopping some clown from entering, and the guy wasn't happy. He looked drunk, and was doing everything he could to get past the bouncer, who gently but firmly kept pushing him back from the door.
It was almost comic.
The thing is, when I said clown, I meant it.
This guy had the whole rig - green wig, red nose, whiteface, harlequin suit, big funny shoes, the works.
The wig came off, the clown was hopping mad, and the comedy was gone. People were trying to leave but weren't sure they could get out safely. Fear of assault with a rubber chicken can give pause to even the mightiest of men.
But the clown's attention was fully locked on the bouncer who, unfazed in the slightest, was having none of him.
One of the waitresses was about to take her break but was afraid to leave, so I, the mightiest of men, ran interference on my way out. The clown didn't bother us (just as well for him), and I said there'd probably be a cop along soon, so she'd be okay getting back in later.
Suitably reassured, we parted ways and I headed for home.
Sure enough, two cops appeared around the corner, and I went over.
"Gentlemen," I said, to get their attention, "you didn't by any chance get a call about a mad clown?"
I must have been grinning, because they looked at each other, then at me, no doubt wondering if I was having a laugh, or drunk, or both.
"No, where?" said one, grinning himself.
"Eddie Rocket's," I said, pointing back the way I'd come. "He's giving the bouncer a bit of grief about not getting in."
"Really? Is he still there?" said the other cop, also cracking a smile. He sounded almost eager.
"Oh yes," I said. "You can't miss him - big shoes, red nose..."
But they were gone, obviously in a hurry. It was going to look good on the night's report - maybe he'd resist...
Nobody likes a clown.