Chapter 17: The Playboy of the Western World

Today I got up at 8:30 to eat breakfast and fast made friends with a Brit from Zimbabwe, 3 Quebecois, a Frenchman from Montpellier and 2 Aussie boys from Melbourne. I headed out at 9:45ish and visited the Garden of Remembrance, which probably would have meant a lot more to me if could have read the original Gaelic and not the English translation. I then spent the next, like, half day in the Dublin Writers' Museum, looking at information on Yeats, Shaw, Wilde, Swift and many many others, and even attending a small performance to bring some of the work and the authors to life by a small Irish performer who had clearly failed on stage and had resorted to this kind of work. I left at around 3:30 and went to a pub to get lunch and a pint of Guiness - lunch being a traditional Irish stew of meat and potatoes. As I sat there for 2 hours, even the barkeep's eyes were glues to the TV, where two football teams shook hands after their victory/defeat - depends on whose side you're on - witnessing some true sportsmanship; like friends playing a game. The coaster for the beer has an ad for "Designated Drivers Get Soft Drinks Free!" A man passed by with a "40 Today" badge on and I wished him a happy birthday and he thanked me in a thick Irish accent. Everyone who walks into the pubs stops for a moment to watch the game. Guiness does drive the creative mind.
I left the pub at 5pm and began meandering around the city just exploring the cobblestone streets and small alleys of Dublin. I found a small bookshop where I bought some traditional Irish Literature, accompanying the book and 2 CDs of Irish music I have bought at the Writers' Museum. I ended up by the River Liffrey at around 6:45pm and found my way to the Abbey Theatre and impulsively decided to buy a ticket to the main showing of that evening, which happened to be a classically famous Irish play which had opened at the Abbey in 1907 - accompanied by many riots - and had now been contemporized for the 21st Century Irish audience - "The Playboy of the Western World".
"I'd like one student please." I said to the lady behind the glass.
"We sell the tickets by where you sit, dear." she said.
"Alright," I said, "how much are the tickets?"
"There's 50 euro, 35 euro, 25 euro and 15 euro." and she pointed out each section as she named the price. It took some deliberation between 15 and 25 and in the end I went for 25 because I'd rather sacrifice the extra coin for a good seat.
The play began at 7:30pm and so I decided to have a pint at the pub across the road to kill some time. Iwalked in and the place was dankly lit and was hewn from intricate wood carving and exposed brick.
"A pint of cider, please." I asked the barkeep and he served up the golden ale. After a few minutes of sitting alone, the barkeep struck up a conversation, "So, where you travelling from?"
"Australia." I said.
"Ah, far across the world," he said in his thick Irish accent, "You a Guiness man?" he asked and I nodded. He smiled, "Only Guiness drinkers order the cider - when they're not in the mood for a pint o' Guiness. You seein' the show tonight?" he asked, nodding in the direction of the The Abbey, and I nodded again, "You should come back here after," he said, "the actors come in here every night after the show."
"Really?" he nodded, "then you sold me," I said, "I'll see you after the show." I looked down at my watch, "I should get going, I'll see you soon...what's your name?"
"Ross." he said, extending his hand.
"Jordan." and we shook.
Once you're in the theatre, you realize there ARE no bad seats. I was in a far corner on one of the wings in the middle, and I still had a perfect view of the stage. The play itself was fantastic, well acted, and the script well adapted for modern times - though I admit it took a great deal of effort to not analyse the performance according to the guidelines set out by my Performance Studies courses.
When it was finished I headed back over to the pub and sat down to a drink with a married couple I met in the pub as I discussed the show with them and Ross the Barkeep. He was Syl(vester) and was from Dublin, and she was Gretchen the English Teacher at Cambridge from Boston. We sat and discussed at length literature and the literary history of Dublin, Steve Irwin, Australia and snaked and the hot and the cold.
"I've always wanted to go to Australia," she said, "but I'm just afraid of running into snakes."
"You won't unless you leave the city and into the bush." I reassured her.
"You have an accent that isn't really Australian, though." Gretchen said, almost enquiringly.
"Well, it's a mongrel accent. I'm originally Canadian." I said.
"See, I'd've picked Canadian or American first, but every couple of words is very Australian." she said.
"Really? I'd've picked Aussie right away." Said Syl.
After some time they left the pub to find something to eat and I continued chatting with Ross when Joe, one of the actors from the play, walked in and ordered a beer right beside me.
"You were in the play just then, weren't you?"
"Yeah, I was."
"Man, I wanna thank you. That was a great performance."
"Yeah, I do a good drunk." and we laughed. We ended up chatting for several hours on acting and Dublin and everything. I even ranted about Anna to him, "I think I managed to get the prettiest girl in Australia." I said and he smiled as I showed him a picture of her, "How old is she?" he asked.
"21." I said and he smiled and tapped his glass on the counter and took a drink, "What?" I asked.
"Fuck you both and your youth. I'm 43." he said jovially, smiling and taking a drink.
"Another round." he told Ross and I took my wallet out to pay mine and he waved it aside, "Kepp it. This is on me." he said. I thank him and we continued talking. I told him I wanted to be an actor as well and he looked to the ceiling, "Not another actor! Another fool joins our ranks! You poor bastard." he smiled, "Nah, I wouldn't rather be doing anything else, I love it."
At around 1:30 he left and we shook hands, "Jordan, it was great to meet you. Thank you so much." And I obliged with a similar comment. I finished my pint and left the pub, stumbling back to the hostel, getting there at quarter to two, walking in on James the Australian rocking out on acoustic bass with Salvo the Italian, who was on steel string acoustic guitar. I joined their ranks and we all proceeded to jam until quarter to three when we all finally decided to get to bed.

- from the Journal, 27th December 2008