My name-calling was cruel and I beg your forgiveness

(Content warning. Contains teenage Irish expletives and a story you are not likely to believe. But I can assure you, it’s true!)

As a teenager, my Irish mates and I hung out at our local seafront for weekend entertainment. We always had the same routine. In the morning, the one that looked older would go to the shop and buy the ciggies, then we’d sit on the seawall, chuffing our smokes until it was time for the amusement arcade opposite to open.

Just a few doors down from the arcade was ‘Paul’s Chippy.’ With eyes stinging from clouds of tobacco smoke, we would watch the staff preparing the oil fryers for the day ahead. There was one particular member of staff I was rather besotted with. Sharon was in her thirties and more likely than not, married with two kids and a Labrador. But I was a spotty teenager with hormones, so no one could deny me her love!

One particular day, we were in the arcade wiggling our joysticks to Mario Bros and Space Invaders, when some police officers walked in. In Ireland during the 80’s this was a bit of a worry. One of them walked towards me with his hand disturbingly close to his gun (they all had guns in those days). He nodded at me, grinned suspiciously, then turned to his colleagues and they all left again!

‘What the fuck was all that about?’ I asked my mate, Davy.

‘I’ve got no fuckin’ clue like.’ he replied.

‘Aww, shite. I’ve lost my last life now. Bastards! Shall we go to the chippy?’ I asked.

‘Sounds like a plan so it does. Are you gonna ask her out this time or just chicken out as fuckin’ usual?’ Davy replied.

‘Yeah ha ha, very funny yeh smart fucker!’

But as we approached the chippy we noticed the front door was shut. When I looked inside, three men in suits were standing in a line waiting to be served by my love interest, Sharon. It was all very odd.

‘What the fucks all this about?’ I said.

‘Fuck knows! Give the door a shove.’ Davy replied.

I tried the door and it was stuck, so I gave it a good rattle. Then two of the men inside turned towards me with a look of concern. I noticed the man standing between them was being served fish and chips by Sharon. He was much smaller than the other two and had ears that stuck out like Dumbo. So I did what any teenager would do in the circumstances to impress his girl …

‘Hey you! Big Ears! those are my fuckin’ chips. Just cause you’ve got a suit on doesn’t mean you can jump the fuckin’ queue.’

I noticed Sharon looking rather embarrassed. Then she seemed to apologise to the man. I turned my head and noticed all the police units parked down the road. Three coppers were walking in our direction.

‘Come on will yeh, let’s just fuckin’ come back later.’ Davy said.

‘But why the fuck should I, just because they’re wearing suits, doesn’t mean …’

Then the man with the ears turned around and smiled. My heart stopped. Everything stopped. My mouth remained open. I grabbed Davy’s arm …

‘Let’s … just … oh fuck … shit … don’t look around for fuck’s sake!’ I said.

‘What. Why? Who the fuck is it like.’ he replied.

As we walked away quickly, I listened for either a gunshot to ring out, or for the shouts of Irish policemen ordering us to ‘GET DOWN ON THE GROUND. NOW!’

But miraculously, it never happened.

When I eventually got my breath back after a couple of chain-smoked cigarettes, I confessed to my confused friend …

‘It was Prince Fucking Charles!’

*******************************************************************

So there you have it! Although some of this may be a little hyperbolic for entertainment purposes, I really did shout ‘Big Ears!’ at the King of England. He was on an unofficial visit to my home town of Bangor in Northern Ireland and was served chips by my teenage crush Sharon. She did speak to me eventually, but the chip portions were never as big!

Originally published at https://medium.com/never-stop-writing/my-name-calling-was-cruel-and-i-beg-forgiveness-21854ce1e09f