Dublin 2

March 8, 2020

Met Jack, Steve’s former lover. If there was ever a pair of Alpha Gays in the world it is they, both beautiful and elegant, like men in advertisements for cologne. They broke up as lovers weeks ago, but still hang out together as best friends. I can’t figure it out, and neither can Steve, but it apparently suits them. It would make a good sit-com. Jack and his mountainous biceps sell real estate and Steve and his Apollo face work on line for his brother’s business in Australia, which provides a number of services connected with staffing. When they went for drinks with friends probably as striking as they, I went for a 9 euro vodka tonic at The Turk’s Head. It was fun. I bought crisps and came home.

            

Read Dostoevsky while waiting for a falafel platter.

            

SM remarks, “My dad is sick all the time, but then, he’s seventy.” I say, “I’m seventy,” exaggerating by 6 months. The look on his face was worth the price of the flight.

Evening/Night: Sitting in the room, wrapped in everything, unable to get warm. Cappuccino in Rosie’s just down the hill from Christ Church. Walked to Saint Patrick’s for morning service. Went from there to Dublin Castle and the Beatty Library. Didn’t actually see any of the exhibitions at the Library, but ate a vast and leisurely lunch, napped in my chair, rose and returned to Saint Patrick’s for Evensong. In St Patrick’s Green a boy was throwing a ball for a lively Jack Russell. The dog began to carry the ball to other people roundabout for them to throw. I got my turn, and as I threw the ball, I realized that a joyful spirit had blessed me, and now was chasing after a ball I’d thrown. Happiest dog in the world just then, shedding a little golden light around. Evensong was exquisite, if less well attended than a service at All Souls. Toddled back up the hill, had a Bulmers at Lord Edward’s, watching Manchester United with the lads. I could have four Bulmers in a night once upon a time and stagger amorously on to the Sauna. This one made me sick; still trying to metabolize it. Thought Steve might meet me at Evensong. He confessed to never having been in Saint Patrick’s, and only once in Christ Church. Someone that beautiful does not have to add beauty to his life, is my theory.