In recent years Ireland became a trendy venue for groups of young English people to visit for the weekend. Flights had become dirt-cheap, the natives were friendly and Dublin had wall-to-wall pubs. Stag partiers could slope through the streets and throw up without a care in the world and not worry about a Bobbie sneaking up behind them yelling “you’re nicked me son”. Soon a weekend in Temple Bar was not the same if you didn’t trip over a comatose limey in the gutter or see one tied naked to a lamppost with his genitals lathered in industrial soap.
The trend then began to spread, and just recently I read about a court case in Cork from a few years back, when two yobs were arrested for public nudity. “He was walking down the middle of Washington Street. He was totally naked as the day he was born,” said Garda Rice as he gave evidence in court. The report continued, “The two Gardai were on midnight patrol in the city centre when they came upon the two nude doctors. The two British doctors - a cardiologist and a psychiatrist, both of whom are due to sit examinations to be consultants - were in Cork on one of their stag weekends, when they walked about naked after midnight in the city centre”. I suppose it gives them something to do when they are not smoking.
To think that after all these years of attending clinics and hospitals, I was being treated by ex-medical students who probably still owe rent from their student days in the 70‘s and have more than likely defaulted on tuition loans by changing identities, and now sleep in their cars.
Also, if this is how British professionals have always carried on, how did the bastards ever build an empire?