Friday???

(A group chat called Friday???. It starts at four minutes past eight.)

Marek: Right. Where are we going?

Sinead: I’m not going out out. Just a drink somewhere with chairs.

Marek: Noted.

Dev: How about the new Georgian place on Dawson Street? I’ve wanted to go for months.

Marek: Can we even get in?

Sinead: You book two weeks ahead. I’ve just looked. There’s a table on the 14th.

Dev: I’m in Cork on the 14th.

Marek: Okay. Why don’t we do the Blackbird?

Dev: Quiz night. They’ve put a second one on Fridays now. You can’t hear yourself think in there.

Sinead: I like the quiz.

Dev: You like winning the quiz. There’s a difference.

Sinead: There really isn’t.

Marek: Shall we just go to Mór? It’s five minutes from you both.

Sinead: Cash only. And I’ve got about four euro on me.

Dev: There’s a machine outside.

Sinead: There’s a machine outside that’s been broken since March.

Dev: Fair. What about that club on the quays? We’ve been saying we’d go all year.

Marek: Fifteen in at the door, and I’m up at six.

Dev: On a Saturday?

Marek: My mother’s coming at nine. The whole flat has to look like somebody lives in it.

Sinead: Say no more.

Dev: Thai place, then. They do the thing with the crab.

Sinead: They stop serving at nine.

Marek: What time is it now?

Sinead: 8:51.

(Nobody types anything for a minute.)

Marek: The Ship?

Sinead: The Ship.

Dev: Already here.

Marek: Since when?

Dev: Ten past eight. I got the corner table.

Sinead: You let us do that for forty minutes?

Dev: I was enjoying it. Also I knew.

Marek: Knew what?

Dev: That it was going to be the Ship. It’s always the Ship.

Sinead: Order me one. I’m getting my coat.

Marek: Two. I’m on the bus.