Rest In Piece - The 108

I'm gonna get nice and sentimental for a second here. I went out to get some breakfast there the other day and I saw something that sparked an emotional flame in me, memories, shit I hadn't thought about in ages. For the first time a monument that was sort of a pivotal iconic symbol at one time in my life is now gone. It is no longer there. It seized to exist. It is no more. My first proper local.

The first time I remember going into a pub to actually have a drink, I was about 14 or 15, it was Paddy's Day and we all had our RTC Athlone IDs ready to go. These things were the dodgiest thing on the planet, my mate, Gal, made them up on his, then new, Windows 95. We scoured around town, looking for a place where we might get served a place that would accept or IDs. Eventually, we hit the downstairs bar of the International Bar. We gargled ourselves to fuck that day and it became an under age drinking spot for years but I never really felt that it was a local. We used to go there when we went to town but it never really did for me. I need a place where I felt perfectly at home to call it my local, or if that term meant anything at all which I was questioning at the time.

Another was the Eden Pub, up by Three Rock in Rathfarnham; I started working up there with a few mates so with that we all started drinking up there. Many a time I was getting between the owner, Patsy Kiernan, and customers. Holding them back so they wouldn't kill him. Anyways, in the end, he sacked me, eventually, because, not for lateness, not low work effort but because I had a navy coloured tie on, instead of a black one which he passionately wanted me to wear. I often thought to myself –

‘Was that the reason why he sacked me? Was there another reason?’

And maybe it was just the fact that he was a complete cunt that did it. Yeah, I'd say that had something to do with it. He sacked my mate, Willie, who had busted his chops up there for about 4 long years. Willie wanted to concentrate on his Leaving for a few months and not only did he fire him but he barred him too. So drinking there didn't really rock me or my mate’s boats after all that.

But it was when I went to the High School, Rathgar that I was to find my first proper local. I was about seventeen when I moved there so it was that time where everyone was starting to go to pubs, regularly. The whole knacker drinking thing was getting a bit old for everyone and the pub was the new place to be. It was completely different now and everyone was headed straight the pub - A PUB.

And where did all these new people in this new school hang out after school on a Friday?

The answer - The 108

The 108 in Rathgar was a bar smack bam in the centre of Rathgar Village, a sister pub of Comans, literally, Comans and the 108 stood next to each other, one on each corner of the main cross roads in Rathgar. Coman reminded me of the Eden. Full of wealth middle aged couples from the area also all the old High School alumni, who were just too ould to be drinking in the 108 anymore. The 108 had 2 floors, the bottom floor was full of locals, a dingy little shit hole where nobody ever went but you went upstairs, well, that’s where everyone was. Just young cunts left, right and centre. On a Friday night half your year was up there, gargling the fuck out of it.

The first time I went to the 'Oners', yes, we shortened it from the 108 to the Oners, . . . . . laugh all you want, it was the fuckin shit. Anyway, me and a couple of the lads went along to this Battle of the Bands thing on in the school. I was in fourth year, only about 4 month at the school, but, one of my best mates, Franko, had been in the school for years and he was a year ahead of me and he asked me

'Fancy a pint in the 108 after this?'

'Do I?' I says, I asks, 'Fucking right I do. Do you think we'll get in?'

'Not a fucking bothers.'

So up we legged it once the gig was over. The place was jammers, everybody from my year was there, now, at this stage I vaguely knew anyone, as I said I was only in the school about 4 months but they all made me feel right at home. I was getting fucking locked with my class mates and if my memory serves me correctly I ended up scoring one of the girls in my years mate.

'Fuckin Hell' I thought to myself, 'This is the fuckin shit!'

I couldn't believe it. Myself, Franko and a bloke from my year, Phil MacGouran, who I just kind of met, walked home pissed as farts and laughing our balls off in the depths of winter. This was a weekly trip myself; Franko, Phil and many others would take pretty much every weekend for the next 5 years or so.

It became that every week in school, the first half of the week was all about the last weekend in the 108 and the second half was about this coming Friday. Every Friday at about 8 o clock, I would stroll over to Phil's gaf, sometimes with Franko and we would pick up a mix of heads on our way down, the likes of Gregor Timlin and Chuck MacGarry to name a few and we would stroll up to Rathgar . . . . from Rathfarnham, what the fuck were we thinking? Sometimes it was in minus degree cold.

20 pounds was all you needed, 25 and you would be having a ball, First off, you would pick up a box of smokes which would set you back a fiver, you would get 5 pints for 12.50 and the last 2.50 in the chipper on the way home.

Now, I know everyone says that their pub on Christmas Eve is the shit, but my answer to that is no . . . . . simply, no. The fucking 108 was ridicules. Every cunt that was spawned from High School was there. Pretty much the whole alumni was between the 108 and Comans and when I say in between, I mean it, people out on that road that heads down to Harold’s Cross from Rathgar was just packed, literally, closed off with people and after the two places were finished, everyone was out on the road. One guy, and I'm not gonna naming names for the simply fact that this guys is probably a fucking accountant now or something, he had a tradition of getting naked (in the depth of Winter) and start jumping over moving cars that went through the village, this was all being cheered on by about a 1000+ drunkards getting ready to head home and rap their oul pairs presents. Some people actually had there oul'pairs present on them, one dude was wearing a dressing gown that he was giving to his Ma in the morning, For fuck sake.

One of the reasons why I haven't gone up there the last couple of Christmas' is everyone evolved over to Coman's . . . . . . with the wealthy, middle-aged, local couples . . . . no, thanks, I don't see my oul'pair enough, I'm gonna stall it in with them these days. I miss it every year though. One time me, Singo, Kieth Singleton, Gregor and Frank went on protest and drank downstairs in the 108, anything but Comans but sadly it fell on deaf ears.

But all of this went on for years. It was the local, we all knew the barmen, we knew all the customers. I remember the really depressing art work on the wall, the couple sitting next to each other but they were both sort of turning away from each other, both people sick of each other, it was a big fuck off mural on the wall.

Anyways, as I was walking around looking for a place to have breakfast last Sunday morning, around Ternure then up into Rathgar, I noticed that as I was walking through that the 108 building was gone; it was a massive pile of rubble. I stood there for about 5 minutes and immediately a shit load of memories came flooding back to me, stuff I hadn't thought about in ages. Now, I don't know what they are doing with the site, maybe, they are going to build a more improved 108 or maybe not but, not to get too sentimental but I just wanted to tip my hat to the 108 in my own little way and to anyone who knows what I'm on about, to anyone who drank there, help me, and lift your glass to the 108. One of my favourite pubs in Dublin.