Idlebones

Never Trust a Burgular When Your Naked

I’m coming to the end of my three weeks in Killarney. I’m also coming to the end of the long tether that holds me back from hitting someone. The hotel is lovely, and the staff warm and friendly, but they’re so stuck in their ways and almost socialist in their working practices that It’s occurred to me far too often that buying and installing a new expensive computer system here has been akin to putting a spoiler and go-faster stripes on a Stana Stairlift.
I suppose I can’t take all my frustrations out on the Hotel. The week started badly with my imaginary burglars on Sunday night. Just dropping off, finally I suddenly found myself standing in the middle of the bedroom, having leaped out of bed as if scalded. The sound that woke me registered slowly as the sound of a glass pane being thumped twice, and then smashed, by which time I was at the top of the stairs looking down.

From Finns side: oh for goodness sake! I was so fast asleep then. What the hell is he doing, standing at the top of the stairs, stark naked and hair sticking out in great unkempt tussels. Another dream, just as he’s about to drop off. He’s always at this…..
I started shouting ” Hello” down the stairs. No excuse for impoliteness, I suppose. Behind me Finn is groaning and telling me to go back to bed. It was just a dream. I’m scanning the windows around the front door where I was sure the noise must have come from and there’s nothing there, so I start descending the stair…

…..and always on Sunday nights, just when he has to get up early the next day. Oh great, now he going down stairs. He’ll set the bloody alarm off now. Not listening to me. What the hell does he think shouting ‘Hello’ is going to achieve?! He’ll be on the couch for the rest of the night if he keeps this up………
Thumping down the stair, making my prescence obvious, or trying to make my self sound big, I’m not sure which, I reach the bottom just as the alarm screams to life. Car headlights sweep the front porch and a accelerate away from the house.

Jesus, he’ll wake the neighbours…..

I let it ring for a moment and listen for reaction. Nothing, so I switch it off. I start with the kitchen, switching lights on as I go and check every room and window and find nothing out of place. Now i can’t understand where the noise has come from. I Am sure I heard it.
It was just a dream, come back to bed, for flips’………
Thats when I spot the set of keys sprawled accross the wooden floor beneath the letterbox. Thump, thump, Smash. John the Barman trying to get the keys through the noisey letter box. Johns’ hurried headlights turning in the drive, as he saw the lights come on all over the house. John bringing the pub keys back at stupid O’clock in the morning to wake me up.
Finn spent the next 20 minutes rocking with laughter as I grumpily climbed back into bed. Mumbled something encouraging about scaring the neighbours before collapsing into fits of laughter again, as she thought of my form as it would have apeared in the window to passing motorists.
-I though it was a burglar!!
-yes dear. My hero, And you tried to frighten them off by running around the house naked shouting ‘Hello’ in a friendly manner.Were you trying to seduce them? I’ll be lucky if that barman ever comes back!!…..(more muffled laughter).
Naked ingratitude. Tolerable embarassment, simmering sulkiness. Went to sleep working out ways to connect the letterbox to the mains.