I met that financial fellow he says. Oh yes, Mr Finagle? See those money boys! He shook my hand and I counted my fingers.
The handshakes and whoyouknows, you know, so and so. What's his surname there now? An affable arm around a comrade. Tossed expansively as if over the back of a high fat armchair distended from proximity to hearth. Stuffed with country money and grave business. Now they take to the buffet. The networking cognoscenti eying each other over the croissants before the traffic has even come to a standstill on the Lower Ormeau.
Literature thrust at us by prompt machine washables with dry clean only smiles, Titantic Suite is it. level 2 haveaniceday. It's bistro blacks to the ankles now in Belfast. Bewleys do the coffee and a clatter vie for a top-up. In the new conference suites they give us mugs. Busy people can't be doing with literature cups saucers and shake hands to boot they say, give them mugs hello howdyoudo, oopsoops. Juggle to accept a grip, elbow clamping handouts to your uxters. Yet to perfect it and if armed I make fervent points with saucer as if I'm waving a manifesto.
That other one was the rhetoric of pie charts and twelve percent of nothing but this is fine stuff indeed. Marvelous man to listen to. It's a small market he says, a small market, pounding his voice on the air. He confides in the room like a man who's hit on something and is a bit surprised about it himself. You are hearing the story by his kitchen fire his dog at your feet. 'Martin he says, Peter I says' and gallops off the entire conversation by way of anecdote. "You dont let up, you hear? Onepointseven million you want to be ready to take on the whole of the island and you want to be sending trucks through that place whats it? Larne? Great sausage rolls and all that ha! But what else, Boats! boats out of it thats what. You need to be sending out trucks of the things, trucks I'm telling you!"
I'm on the edge of my seat about to commission trucks.
It's horse trading across the table! He goes on. Holy smoke for flip sake the banks they're only human you go and take your bank man by the shirt front and shake him. Shake him! Otherwise dont start, dont even start do you hear me.
Petra. As he tries to sell me coins from the very spot where Moses struck the rock with his staff and water came forth. Look missus simpson he says, look! finger bones missus real finger bones!