Jason OMahony - Irish political blogger, Irish politics, EU politics
 
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Welcome to Bertieland.

Posted by Jason O on Sep 15, 2015 in European Union, Irish Politics, Not quite serious., Politics

Bertie AhernBertie Ahern had sat down with a mug of tea and a small plate of chocolate digestives, just as “Murder, she wrote” was starting, when his mobile rang. It was lashing down outside, real cats and dogs with extra dogs weather.

He frowned at the number. He didn’t recognise it, and had problems in the past with smart alecs getting his number and giving him abuse over the phone. The gas thing was that every one of them thought he was the first fella to do it. Bertie rarely hung up, just put the phone in the breadbin in the kitchen and went about his business, letting them tire themselves out. He’d occasionally pick up the phone to see if they were still there, catch a “Galway tent” or the like, and just carry on. They’d normally hang up in frustration, although one got quite distressed at the fact that Bertie had neither replied not hung up, and started asking was he OK. The former Taoiseach had ended up talking to that one, and they spent twenty minutes talking about the upcoming Premiership season. Your man hung up with a cheerful goodbye, having completely forgotten why he’d rung in the first place.

Bertie answered the phone.

“Mr Ahern? This is the Federal Chancellor’s office: can you take a call from Chancellor Merkel?”

Half of his chocolate digestive fell into his tea with the shock. He hadn’t spoken to her in a few years.

“Oh, eh, yeah. Of course.” His brain was racing. Could this be some smartarse radio DJ?

When the voice came on it sure sounded like her. Her English was better than people thought, but she didn’t really feel at ease using it. She always struggled to sound happy to be talking to someone, even when she was.

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