The Irish Method

Once upon a time, but not too long ago, quite recently in fact, there was a young man called Paddy McGinty who emigrated from his homeland in Limerick to Sydney Australia. Paddy was a personable young man, and easy with the tongue and the charm. Now he soon made some friends among the Australians, including a lovely girl called Colleen Flannagan. And indeed he fell head over heels in love with Colleen, and before long found himself proposing to her.
'Colleen me darlint, will ye marry me?' Paddy asked over a candlelight dinner at an expensive restaurant.
'Shure and I'll marry ye,' Colleen said, 'on the one condition, now.'
'And what would that condition be?' asked Paddy, willing to give her anything.
'Well, Paddy, before I left Ireland, I was studying at the university and worked in the archives. I found an ancient Irish manuscript, records of the Tuatha de Danaan, and how it was that they were making love. It was called the Irish method. Now Paddy, when we are married, I'd like to think we'd be makin' love in the ancient Irish way.'
'Oh,' said Paddy rashly, 'That's not a problem! I'm familiar with the ancient Irish method of lovemaking!'
"Then,' breathed Colleen happily, 'I'll be marryin' ye, Paddy McGinty!'

So Paddy was both happy and sad. Happy, because the girl of his dreams had consented to be his wife, and sad because he had lied his head off, and knew nothing whatsoever about any ancient Irish methods of making love.

So he went to a house of ill-fame to see if he could learn a thing or two.
The Madam greeted him suspiciously. 'Whaddyer want?' she asked.
'Er,' said Paddy, 'How much do you, er, charge?'
'Three hundred dollars,' said the Madam snootily. 'This is a class establishment.'
'Then,' said Paddy, 'I'll be payin' ye six hundred, if ye'll teach me the Irish method ..."
But he barely got the words out when he found himself thrown unceremoniously into the street.
"This is a class establishment!' cried the Madam furiously. 'Don't come here with yer dirty suggestions!'

Paddy picked himself up and brushed himself down, and tried another place at King's Cross. This wasn't so posh and elegant, but he took hope from that after his last experience.
The Madam quoted him a hundred dollars, and again he offered to double it if they could instruct him in the ancient Irish method.
The Madam's eyebrows shot skyward and she screamed. A hefty bouncer appeared out of nowhere and shoved poor Paddy into the street. 'Don't you come 'ere with your nasty suggestions!' the bouncer muttered, twisting Paddy's arm furiously.

Paddy was most put out. He walked home dejectedly, and decided to telephone John, one of his new Australian friends. He told the story. John was sympathetic.
'I don't know anything about ancient Irish customs,' John said, 'But if I were you, I'd invite Colleen to a weekend at a resort, ply her with wine and ask her to teach you. I'm sure she'd love to help you learn.'

So Paddy called Colleen the next day and invited her for a weekend at a luxury resort at the beach. Colleen readily agreed.

So that weekend, they found they had a magnificent two-storey apartment right on Bondi Beach. As they strolled hand-in-hand along the silvery sand, Paddy confessed to Colleen that he had lied about the ancient Irish custom, and suggested that, after a romantic dinner that night, she might teach him.

And Colleen was delighted with the idea.

So they ordered dinner in their apartment, and the waiters came with a shining trolley bristling with crystal and silver, with bottles of the finest Verve Cliquot and exquisite fruits and magnificent dishes. A gipsy violinist entertained them as they ate and drank. Then, finally, the meal was over, the violinist had gone, and they were alone.

'Tell ye what,' said Colleen softly. 'I'll be going upstairs to change into something a little more comfortable. When I am ready, I'll be giving ye a long, low whistle. When ye hear the whistle, Paddy McGinty, come runnin' up to me -- and I'll be waitin' to teach ye the ancient Irish way of makin' love!'

And with a sultry, seductive smile, she ascended the staircase.

Paddy waited below, anxiously pacing and nervously twisting his hands. Minutes passed ... long, long minutes. Then it came: the sound of Colleen's long, low whistle.

Paddy McGinty ran for the stairs as fast as he could ... and tripped on the top one, falling to the floor below, and breaking his leg in three places.

He's in hospital for six months, with his leg in plaster, still wondering what the ancient Irish method of making love could possibly be ....