“Why don’t they just give us all the vaccine?” Honor goes, with the innocence of a child. “As in, why can’t we just, like, pay to get it before everyone else?”
“The vaccine is being distributed on the basis of the greatest need,” Sorcha goes. “We’re not considered a priority.”
"What, even though we're rich?" Honor goes, and when she puts it like that – yeah, no – it does seem unfair.
Yeah, no, it's possibly our fault for spoiling the girl. We Fast Passed our way around Disneyland and we may have created an expectation that her entire life would be like that
Sorcha's there, "Honor, I hope we didn't raise you to believe that just because we live in a big house in Killiney, we should be allowed to use our money to skip the queue."
Honor goes, “We use our money to skip every other queue. Why should this one be any different?”
Yeah, no, it’s possibly our fault for spoiling the girl. We Fast Passed our way around Disneyland Paris when she was, like, five years old and we may have created an expectation that her entire life was going to be like that.
Sorcha just, like, sighs. Hey, she was the one who was worried that Netflix was – direct quote – turning our brains into foie gras and insisted on having two evenings a week where we sit around as a family and – again, her word – talk.
"Okay," she goes, "changing the subject, what about all the things we're most looking forward to doing when this whole thing is, like, over? Okay, I'm going to go first. I'm looking forward to having a lorge gin and tonic while I have my hair done. I'm looking forward to being able to hug my mom and dad and go to the National Concert Hall with them. And I'm looking forward to having a porty, here in the house, for – oh my God – all our friends!"
I’m there, “Except for Gareth and Claire from Bray of all places.”
She’s like, “What’s wrong with Gareth and Claire from Bray of all places?”
"I think you'll find the answer's in the question," I go. "But on top of that, I saw him in a petrol station forecourt two days after Christmas, filling up the Avensis while wearing shorts."
“That’s because he’s thinking about doing a triathlon.”
"He's been thinking about doing a triathlon for 10 years. These were, like, board shorts, though. And Havanas. In the middle of focking winter. I hate dudes who do that. It's just so, 'Look at me!' and I was, like, this close to just decking him on a point of principle."
“Well, if we’re cancelling Garreth and Claire on that basis, then we’re also cancelling Christian.”
“Er, why?”
"Because he put up a photograph on Instagram of him having a picnic with the kids in Stephen's Green two weeks ago. And before you say anything to defend him, Ross, he lives exactly 5.3km from Stephen's Green, because I checked."
Honor goes, “I really cherish these evenings we spend together as a family.”
"Oh my God," Sorcha goes, "that's what we'll do! I was reading in – it might have even been The Irish Times magazine – about how a lot of people are using lockdown as an opportunity to purge their friend lists and let the relationships that no longer work for them just, like, slide."
Straight away, I’m like, “Amie with an ie.”
“What’s wrong with Amie with an ie?”
"Two weeks ago, I was in SuperValu in Dalkey, standing at the checkout with a full trolley. Her and her old dear came up behind me and asked me if they could play through because they only had, like, five items."
“What’s wrong with that?”
“I don’t think that’s something you ask to do. Yeah, no, you take it if it’s offered. So I told them to fock off and Amie with an ie’s old dear storted muttering under her breath about how I was rude and it was no wonder our children turned out the way they did. No offence, Honor.”
The conversation continues in this vein for, like, an hour, the two of us ripping the backs off pretty much everyone we know
“Well, if we’re culling Amie with an ie from our friend list, then we’re also culling JP.”
“JP? We played rugby together!”
"I saw him last week, Ross, and he was wearing his mask under his nose. He might as well have not been wearing it at all. Plus – and this has annoyed me for years – he says 'Pacific' when he means 'specific'. And before you say it, rugby is not an excuse."
“Okay, what about Simon and Rachael with two As?”
“What about them?”
"We have dinner with them, like, three times a year, even though the only thing we have in common is that we met them on holidays in, like, 2009. And he insists on calling Dubai 'Dubes', even though Dubes are things you wear on your feet. And if I have to sit through that anecdote again about how a waiter offered him five camels in exchange for Rachael, I'll end up glassing the focker."
"Did you know that Oisinn had, like, a dinner porty in his house two weeks ago – for eight people with, like, zero social distancing? Plus, when he doesn't hear something you say, he doesn't go, 'What?' or even, 'Pordon?' He goes, 'The which?' and that – oh my God – so irritates me."
“Well, if Oisinn’s cancelled, then so is your mate Sophie.”
“What did Sophie ever do?”
"She's always banging on about her rescue dog like she's its focking saviour or something. She went to the pound, pointed at the cutest one and said, 'I'll take it.' I'm sorry, that is not a rescue situation, Sorcha. End of."
The conversation continues in this vein for, like, an hour, the two of us ripping the backs off pretty much everyone we know. Chloe uses the word “rosemantic”. Sorcha’s sister and her boyfriend took us to a restaurant once where there’s no actual menu and they serve you – I s**t you not – “whatever’s in season”, take it or leave it. Everyone we know ends up getting roasted.
And that’s when I realise that Honor has been suspiciously quiet for the entire thing. I mention it to her as well. I’m there, “What are you thinking about, Honor?”
“I was thinking,” she goes, a big, evil grin on her face, “what a shame it would be if someone recorded this entire conversation and sent it to everyone in your contacts list.”