This fortnight, Pockets grapples with college security and finds an unlikely form of revenge
Last week, we had an incident with a clamp and some one cent coins. Fairly standard stuff really.
We were playing a gig in the University of Limerick on a Thursday night. Wanting to unwind after the gig and get a bit of time to ourselves, we climbed in the window of the Students’ Union, as the door was locked and we wanted to get to the band room.
We were spotted by this crusty auld one and in turn she alerted the “federal security” of the college. These bunch of muppets stroll in and ask us to vacate the Students’ Union, take our belongings and leave. One of them looks like Charlie Chaplin, hat and all, we tell him as much, he’s suitably unimpressed.
We take our belongings and go to the van for a roof party. Lee Boylan plays ‘Welcome to the Jungle’ and all is well. The roof of the van is a lovely spot for a party. Bread is broken with a few local youths and they join us in our one night only Guns and Roses tribute gig on the top of the van.
We’re knee deep in banter by the time the federation arrive. Bowler hat in tact they shout up at us from the ground. That we need to move on. We can’t play ‘Paradise City’ on college grounds or something. We inform them we’re technically not on college grounds as we’re two metres in the air and continue to marvel at one of the gentlemen’s similarities to Charlie Chaplin.
“I am NOT Charlie Chaplin,” he tells us. We tell him to take his little hat and go home.
Eventually we get tired. We head to our hotel and leave the van parked in the car park for the night. We then arrive back to a clamp. Its only 25 quid but it’s the principle of the matter that pisses us off. We had been given permission to park there. They tell us the clamp is essentially retribution for our conduct the night before.
Shit that. After a glorious game of Korn and the Horn (play Korn really loudly while beeping the horn) and many other hair-brained schemes, Tom decides to pay a visit to the bank. We had time to kill anyway. He gets €25 changed into one cent coins and returns with full payment for the clamp.
Charlie Chaplin is upset. We go free. Now all he has to do is count the fucking things.