Smooth as Butter

Another coin clinking into the case. Another awkward listener, tapping her foot just slightly off rhythm. A man stumbles out in front of me, clearly drunk, his clothes dishevelled. He spins in dizzy circles, beer sloshing out of the sides of his can.

"I MET MY LOVE BY THE GAS WORKS WALL," he roars along with me. "DREAMED A DREAM BY THE OLD CANAL"

I look around, desperately trying to catch the eye of a passing Garda who could help me out. Great, just my luck. He barely casts a glance in my direction before pacing slowly on. Thank god the crowd seem to be enjoying his accompaniment... A few of the Japanese tourists snap a few pictures before letting out a nervous giggle.

And then I spotted her.

Beautiful glossy black hair, skin as smooth and creamy as butter. I couldn't take my eyes off her, she was radiant. She made her way over to where I was standing, singing one of my favourite Pogues songs.

She cocked her head to one side, listening. Her eyes searched mine. God she was stunning. I couldn't take my eyes off her. A half-smile spread across her face, dimpling one cheek as though she knew what I was thinking. Her black skirt rumpled where she reached into her pocket. She tossed a shiny two euro piece into my guitar case and strolled on. A heartbeat later, she was gone.

A whole lifetime in just a few minutes. I craned my neck to look after her, but she had already melted into the crush of people on Grafton Street.

"I KISSED MY GIRL BY THE FACTORY WALL," the tramp bellows along with me. "DIRTY OLD TOWN... DIRTY OLD TOWN"