The ectasy of Irish motoring and spelling mistooks…
Was driving to Galway last Friday… between Kilcock and Enfield, saw a sign outside out a house advertising ‘Leather Suits’.
‘Leather suits? Who the fuck wears leather suits?’ I thought.
Who stops and buys clothes at houses on the N6 anyway? Was I driving to into some midlands kinkiness? Would I get a free coffee enema when I stopped for petrol in Kinnegad? Would that rest-stop place in Athlone have a sex shop & auto factor combo, sandwiched between Dominoes Pizza and MacDonalds? Was JG Ballard involved?
Of course, about 2km later, I copped on… what they meant was ‘leather suites… as in furniture.
Reminds me of when, some years ago, I was on a bus from Wexford to Waterford, which had stopped to pick up passengers in New Ross. By the quayside was a burly bearded trawlerman, in wellington, a thick woolly geansaí and the kind of hat my da calls an ‘egg boiler’.
In front of him was a box of fish, and a blackboard which read:
‘HERNES 3 for £2’
The bus pulled away. I hadn’t gotten a look at these strange fish, so I couldn’t determine what they were. But Hernes? I’ve done plenty of angling on Ireland’s south east coast, and I’d never ever landed a herne.
Typically, the bus was about half way to Waterford when it clicked…. herrings…
