Dirk From Next Door is a lovely guy. He’s very smiley, happy, friendly, chatty and likeable. I saw the real contrast in our personalities tonight, when, at a barbeque at Richie Rich’s house, he approached a group of people he didn’t know and just introduced himself and started to talk to them. I didn’t know them either, but my reaction to this situation was – as always – to slink past and hope I didn’t do anything stupid that might make them point and stare. I envy Dirk’s easy confidence. Maybe he can teach me.
Anyway, as we were leaving, he and Jay were giggling like schoolboys, and we three girls (for E2, the fourth and final intern, has now joined the ranks next door) demanded to know the cause of this merriment. Once we were in the car -Dirk clutching what appeared to be a bowl of fruit, and Jay carefully balancing a cheesecake on his knees – the tale was told. Dirk tells a story very well, always managing to sound innocent and slightly incredulous. For example, I choked so hard on my coffee the other night that it came down my nose, when he told me that they’d all been sitting around the dinner table at Mrs. C’s house (Mrs. C is a very holy, spiritually deep, prayerful woman – the kind everyone runs to for guidance, biblical answers and prayer), and he’d asked, in all innocence: “Hey, what’s a w**ker?”.
Tonight, his story was as follows:
“I started talking to this dude, the one with the Jaguar and the prettiest girlfriend in Ireland, and right at the start of the conversation I started to smell this really overpowering smell of fart. It was seriously bad, but everyone was just pretending not to notice so I just went along with it. Then the guys asks me “Hey, are you French?” and I said no, wondering if it’s a smell-related insult to be called French and he was implying I’d done the fart. Everyone laughed, but I didn’t, and then there was an awkward pause. So I asked “So do you go to Hillside?”. He said “No”. I said “OK… So do you live near Richie Rich?”. He said “No”. I wasn’t really getting anywhere with this line of questionning, and I was choking down vomit by this stage because of the fart aroma, so I got desperate and said “Hey man, I’m Dirk, by the way. What’s your name?” And I kid you not, he said “I’m Elmer.” I was like, OK, dude, you are called Elmer – you so do not deserve to have a Jag and be dating the prettiest girl in Northern Ireland.Then I realised Jay had somehow escaped from the building, and I started to back away and then made a run for it and found him waiting outside in the shadows with food.”
There was more to the story but I missed large chunks of it due to the laughter that was erupting in the car as Dirk told it. Love having these four next door. Life is so much more fun. It’s like Ramsey Street without the bad acting.