Paddy Fahy

This story was related to me last night by my new mate, George, who hails from Dumbarton but has lived in Galway for many years.

It concerns this pub "Paddy Fahy" and it's famously misanthropic landlord "Paddy Fahy".

Soon after moving to Galway, George went into the pub for a pint. He asked for a pint of lager. There was no-one else there except George and Paddy. Paddy was watching a horse-race.

"I'll be a minute" said Paddy, not taking his eyes off the telly.

George sat down and waited patiently. It was a national hunt race and was over two and a half miles. Paddy watched on. After about five minutes George gets sick of waiting. He had a thirst on him and he wanted that pint.

"Can I have that pint of lager, please?", he ventured.
"I told you I'd be with you in a minute", replies Paddy, still fixed on the race.

Sod this thinks George. There's another pub just over the road. He walks out without saying a word. Paddy watches the horses approaching the last fence.

[roll forward several years]

George and his mates are out for a pub crawl in Bohermore. Eventually they get to Paddy Fahy's. Straight away Paddy clocks George.

"I'll serve the rest o ye ... but he's barred" he says , pointing a crooked finger at George.
"Whhat For?", blurts our hero, stunned.

Paddy ignores him and addresses one of the other lads "That one's got far too much to say for himself".

George, for the second time, leaves Paddy Fahy's silently and heads across the road to another pub.

"Too much to say for myself", he mutters in disbelief. "I've asked for a pint of lager. Twice".