Mrs 39 is living in a Bublé, but the pension is better than any man

THE woman who hasn’t had sex for 39 years lives alone. Well, not quite. Her dog lives with her. His name is Bublé, after the singer whom Mrs 39 is very fond of listening to on the radio. I tried to persuade her to buy a CD player and then she could listen to Michael Bublé all day long, but Mrs 39 prefers the thrill of waiting to see if Michael’s songs come up on the radio lotto. So she’s there waiting all day long for a Michael song.

“Men have had more fun on death row,” I say.

She says: “You’re jealous of my Michael.”

One of the neighbours saw Mrs 39 dancing with the embroidered cushion off the sofa. The sound was turned up to the very top. Michael was bawling out one of his classics smooch songs. There was talk then that Mrs 39 had taken to the drink, but Mrs 39 didn’t need any drink.

She was cracked enough as it was without it and so far as I know no one was ever locked up for dancing with a cushion with swans on the front.

I’m wondering now if I should warn Mrs 39 not to dance in public or in the gaze of the public. I can see the YouTube clip with the heading “Crazy Irish lady dances with cushion” or “Nutty old bird flies with swans”.

There’s no privacy any more. There was a time when men who peeped in women’s windows were prosecuted. The peepers see Mrs 39 as fair game. Someone can come along and define your life with a two-minute clip.

Mrs 39 hasn’t gone off men completely, but she likes harmless men who she will never meet like famous singers, actors with moustaches , newsreaders with deep voices and handkerchiefs in their top pockets.

The late ex-husband used to wear a moustache. He looked a lot like Pancho Villa, the Mexican bandito. So maybe somewhere very deep inside she still had feelings for him, even though the late ex-husband gave her a very hard time.

I was too young to remember, but my mom told me Mrs 39 often had two black eyes.

It seems the late ex-husband was quite the boxer but he only ever fought one opponent – and that was Mrs 39. He had a 77-0 record and he left for America unbeaten.

The mother told me Mrs 39 was a nice looking lady when she came here first from Listowel. Mrs 39 wore a mini skirt and the builders used to whistle at her.

One man still fancies her. He has notions of most of the women around here, although the man who fancies Mrs 39 is so old and decrepit now he’s like the dog chasing the car, he wouldn’t know how to drive one if he caught up with it.

“How is it men are so horny all the time?” asks Mrs 39.

“Beats me,” says I.

I’m trying to piece together why it is Mrs 39 went off the sex for life. Was it the beatings and the betrayals? Sometimes you hear stories and this wasn’t a Mrs 39 one, but a Mrs 47B one. Mrs 47B lives in No 47 and she too confides in me when she is a few drinks in.

By the way, Mrs 47B isn’t her real name and address. This is another piece of the jigsaw which fits in, but not in this jigsaw.

So anyway, Mrs 47B is having an affair or, as they say around here, she’s milking outside the bucket. Mrs 47B used to go to Dublin to see the son who did very well and had a job where he didn’t have to wear a suit. Before he left for Dublin, he used to be delighted with a mug of drinking chocolate before bed, he now drinks skinny lattes. He plays pool while he’s working in one of those tech companies and has a Dublin accent with an American affectation.

It just dawned on me the false address and name for Mrs 47B could be a bra size. Let’s call Mrs 47 ‘AK’ after the assault rifle, which is very popular in America even though it’s made in Russia.

Mrs AK is sick of the same old carry on. The husband comes home after a few pints with curry and chips and he’s looking for the bit of sex immediately without any chat as he has to be up early for golf the next day.

I don’t like to tell her this might be a cunning trick by the husband. I have been told stories of men who are out all night drinking and know the partner will eat them alive when they get home.

So they ask for the bit of sex. The partner says “No, I’m too tired” and she doesn’t want to be listening to him begging and annoying her and telling her she’s a fine-looking woman and he loves her to bits, so she goes to sleep.

Mr AK escapes sanctions over coming home drunk, late and broke.

The reason I’m guessing this is a plan, is because I did hear Mr AK tell his friends he always calls his wife up during the soaps if he’s out drinking with the boys to tell her he’ll be home late and she replies “Okay, okay, go on, I’m watching ‘Fair City’.”

Meanwhile, the inquiries are coming in every day about Mrs 39 and the men who want to sleep with her. I’m sick of it by now, so the story is I am not listening to any more inquiries. If this keeps on going, we will have to establish some kind of process whereby there’s a preferred bidder, but what’s the point?

Mrs 39 told me she shouldn’t swap her pension book for any man. It seems if a woman marries again she has to give up her widow’s pension.

Mrs AK went off the sex as well when she arrived at the hotel room in Dublin for the affair. The would-be lover had the room full of those little lights you buy in the church at the candelabra. The candles reminded her of confession, the church and death. Mrs AK started to feel guilty so she went off to shop in Grafton Street.

She bought the son a good suit for her funeral in case she went all of a sudden and he turned up in the cool gear he wears in the tech factory.