Short Story I wrote

Morzadec

This is a short story I wrote this year as a college assignment. Lecturer seemed to like it. I guess I'm posting here just to hear any feedback/advice because it's pretty much the only thing I've actually written, and I'd like to know if it's any good. I have a lot of ideas and have thought about writing a lot, but I get demotivated/procrastinate/think my ideas ability isn't good enough a lot.

Anyway I'm taking a whole year off this year, and one of my many projects I'm considering undertaking is perhaps writing more. I was even thinking of continuing this story and maybe trying to write a novel.

Let me know what you think. Advice/criticism is welcome, don't pull any punches!




Sergeant Brian Neary stepped out of his office and strode past the reception desk, where a tall, lean young garda stood assisting an elderly woman, who was struggling to fill out a form for a passport application.

'Doran, I’m off out,’ said Neary over his shoulder as he pushed open the front door of the garda station.

He did not wait for a response from the young garda. He knew Doran would not dream of questioning where he was going and for what reason. He must have known better than that by now.

Neary stepped out into the freezing November air. Icy rain pelted his rain-jacket as he paced purposefully towards his unmarked BMW. Having an unmarked car was one of the few privileges that were still afforded to him after his ‘reassignment’ (as it was termed) to the small town of Coolaney near Sligo. He had been there for two years now and was still as sick of it as when he had first arrived. He was not suited to this sort of job. It bored him. There was nothing to occupy him other than some tedious paperwork, and a few drunk-and-disorderly offences at the weekend. It was frustrating for Neary. He was wasted here. He should have been back in Dublin, putting scumbag drug-dealers behind bars. That was what he was good at. In fact, he was one of the best.

He had risen to prominence in the Organised Crime Unit in the 1990s, working primarily against drug traffickers in the West Dublin area. His first couple of years were spent as an undercover officer in Finglas, where he managed to infiltrate a small gang of cocaine dealers. His work had helped secure convictions against two of these men, and a promotion to a senior position within the unit. It was a dangerous job, and Neary had often put himself at great personal risk in combating the rise of organised drug trafficking. In a raid on a house in Ballyfermot, suspected of containing a sizeable haul of heroin, his colleague was shot in the abdomen by one of the dealers. Neary shot and killed the dealer, and apprehended the other two men, who were afterwards convicted of possession of heroin with intent to supply. Despite the dangers of the job, Neary never thought about quitting. The shooting of his colleague in Ballyfermot was a reaffirmation of a conviction he had always held – drug-dealers were the scum of the earth. They were worse than muggers; worse than rapists. They were even worse than murderers in his view – the ripple effect of selling drugs left immeasurable damage, death and destruction to the lives of so many. Drugs were the cancer of society, and it was the dealers that spread this disease. It was his duty to stop this spread by whatever means necessary, and he was glad to do it. The fact that the drugs trade was motivated purely by personal profit and greed sickened him even further. These drug-lords were making thousands off the suffering of others, while Neary was earning what he felt was a modest salary considering the time and effort his job consumed, not to mention the risk factor. He had never accepted a bribe nor been involved in corruption, despite the financial pressure of sending his three children to private schools. For Neary, drug dealers were the most morally degraded and deplorable people on earth, and if it was up to him they would never see the light of day again.


Neary drove the short distance from the garda station to the town, parked his 5 series on the main road in the small village, and got out. A dishevelled elderly man with a red face and a long grey beard stumbled out of the local pub. Neary smiled.

‘Peter!’ he called, as he crossed the road.

The old man looked temporarily startled as he turned his head in several directions, looking for the origin of the voice. His eyes narrowed and focused on Neary as he slowly recognised the man walking towards him.

‘Ah tis himself!’, he slurred.

‘How are we going Peter? Staying out of trouble I hope?’

‘Trouble?’, exclaimed the old man. ‘Sure I wouldn’t be knowing the meaning of the word now would I?’

Peter was the town drunk, a pathetic character whose daily routine consisted of heading to Hennessy’s pub for most of the day before returning to his home in the village with a six-pack of cheap cider from the off-licence. He would talk to whoever would listen, recounting the same few stories over and over again, while the listener would pretend he had never heard them before. Occasionally, when he drank more than his usual amount on a Friday night, he might cause a disturbance and could get angry or violent, but he was mostly harmless. Still, Neary often got a call from the pub’s owner, John, asking him to remove the drunkard from his premises. In fact it was often the only interesting event of Neary’s week; the only time he was ever really called upon to exercise his duties as a garda.

‘Will you have a drink with me garda?’, asked the drunkard.

‘Not today, Peter, I’m on duty.’

Neary said his goodbyes to the drunkard, and walked in to the café beside the pub for his lunch. He ate his sandwich and gazed out the window at Peter. He appeared to be performing some sort of strange unsynchronised dance while singing seemingly random lyrics in no particular tune. Neary laughed to himself. He had grown something of a fondness towards the old drunk, and was glad whenever he received the call from John at the pub. He would pretend it was a nuisance, and would sigh loudly on the phone, and say ‘Not again’ or ‘What’s he done this time?’, but in fact dealing with Peter was usually a highlight amongst the otherwise mundane existence as a guard in Coolaney. It was also the only time he felt of any use within the community. This thought depressed him. In Dublin he was taking down hardened criminals, partaking in large-scale drug-busts that impacted hugely on the wider community. He felt like he was making a difference. Now he felt impotent; nothing he did was of much importance here. There was no need for him. Back in Dublin drug-trafficking and gangland killings were on the rise, but he was powerless to stop it. There was no way he could go back after what had happened.



Two years earlier Neary’s unit had received a tip-off about a small-time cocaine dealer who operated out of his apartment near Blanchardstown. Neary and four other guards had gone to the apartment and knocked on the door. They could hear the suspect scuttling about inside but he was not answering their knocks. After several minutes they decided to knock down the door. They had found their suspect, a scrawny young man, standing beside the kitchen sink, after moments before forcing a condom filled with cocaine down his throat. The guards arrested the suspect and conducted a full-scale search of his apartment, but they had found nothing. The suspect had managed to swallow his whole stash before the guards had knocked down the door. Neary questioned the suspect, who pleaded ignorance. Neary knew he was guilty – he had heard him choking down the drugs moments before he entered. But as he had no evidence he could not charge him and could only hold the suspect for a limited period. As long as the dealer could control his bowel movements for the next few hours he would get away with his stash. Neary – who had grown increasingly frustrated during the interrogation – could not stand this thought. The young man had an arrogant attitude as he answered Neary’s questions – he knew the guards had nothing on him and he was not afraid to tell them so. After a couple of hours Neary’s patience snapped. He had hit the suspect several times over the course of the interrogation. The young man had claimed he would report him after his release. At this point Neary felt that a conviction was even more necessary. Any charge brought forward by a convicted drug dealer would likely be ignored. He left the interview room, poured a large glass of water and mixed in a heavy dosage of laxatives. He offered the suspect the drink, who refused. Neary told his two colleagues to hold the scrawny youth down. They were reluctant initially, but Neary was their superior and not a man you liked to say no to – especially in his current mood. They pinned down the suspect, while Neary pinched his nose. He inserted a funnel into his mouth, and poured the liquid in. The stash was retrieved, but the conviction against the suspect was quashed due to the illegal methods used by the gardaí. The dealer accepted twenty-thousand euro from Neary in agreement not to press charges. Neary was left crippled by the debts. He was demoted and reassigned to his post out in Coolaney. His family had been far from happy having to move to the small village, and found it difficult to adapt, especially his eldest son Ronan who was nearing the end of his school years. But Neary had had little choice in the matter. He was lucky he had kept his job at all.



Neary paid for his sandwich and left the café. He looked at his watch – it was just past three o’clock. He had no idea how he was going to pass the rest of the day. The sense of boredom and purposelessness was overwhelming. He walked towards his car and drove back to the station. As he entered into the reception area, Doran stood up sharply and walked quickly towards him. His face was flushed and there was a nervous excitement in his walk as he approached Neary.

‘Doran, what’s going on?’, asked Neary.

Doran’s words tumbled out in a flurry of almost incomprehensible blabber. From what Neary understood, a teenager from near Coolaney had been taken into intensive care in Sligo Hospital after overdosing on cocaine the night before. His mother had arrived at the garda station while Neary had been out for lunch, claiming she knew who had supplied the drugs. She named the supplier as Morris O’Callaghan, known by his friends as ‘Mossy’, a man in his early twenties. She had also given the gardaí his address.

‘I thought I’d wait until you came back Brian. What will we do?’

Neary nodded. The young guard looked like he was about to piss himself with excitement.

‘What’s the address?’



Doran and Neary drove to a small house about ten minutes drive from the station. Neary drove in silence as Doran spoke incessantly. Neary was aware that the young guard had little police experience beyond the confines of Coolaney guard station, and was slightly worried by his anxious demeanour. But he was certainly eager and Neary felt he could be depended on to follow his lead. Neary himself felt a surge of excitement that reminded him of the days back in Dublin. There was little danger or threat in the impending bust but the adrenalin was beginning to pump in the way it had done before. He was back doing what he did best.

They pulled up outside the house and got out of the car. Neary walked ahead and Doran followed closely behind. Neary knocked loudly on the door. No answer. He knocked again. A voice came from behind the door.

‘Who is it?’

'Mossy?’, inquired Neary.

‘Yeah, who is it?’, came the voice.

There was a moments silence as Neary thought how best to proceed. Then Doran’s voice came loud and shaky.

'Garda Síochána, open up immediately!’

Neary shot Doran a look of disgust and cursed his stupidity. He heard Morris turn back away from the door and run inside. Doran looked panicked and flustered.

‘I said Garda Síochána, open up immediately!’, he repeated.

They heard two panicked voices coming from within the house – Morris was not the only one dealing drugs out of this house it seemed. The two men stood outside and knocked several times more. Neary was conscious that every moment they spent outside the house gave Morris and his accomplice more time to hide their stash. Neary suddenly had a brainwave.

‘Doran, follow me and don’t **** up this time.’

Doran nodded and followed Neary round the side of the house. The side-door was open and the two guards walked towards the back garden. Neary turned towards his colleague and put his fingers to his lips. Doran nodded. They turned the corner of the house and stepped into the back garden. Two hooded youths with backpacks were at the wall at the back of the garden and one of them had begun to climb the wall. Neary and Doran ran over. The first youth had already hopped the wall, while the other attempted to haul himself over. Doran grabbed a hold of him and pulled him down.

‘Stay here Doran, I’m going for the other one!’

Neary pulled himself over and gave chase to the other youth. He was determined he would not get away. The youth had roughly a twenty metre head-start on Neary, but he was confident he would not get far. The suspect swerved right down an alley-way. Neary was still close behind, but had not closed the gap and his fitness was not what it once was. The youth attempted to scale another wall leading to a back garden, but he was struggling to haul himself over. Neary was right behind him now. The youth pulled himself over wall at the second attempt, just before Neary reached him. Neary hauled his body over the wall with no difficulty and continued the chase. The dealer was cornered now, Neary was sure of it. The only way out was over another wall and the youth was clearly struggling to lift his body-weight. Neary closed in as the dealer approached the wall. With one final desperate effort, the suspect attempted to jump the wall and swing his leg over in one swift movement, but he fell back towards the ground. He got back to his feet but Neary was right behind him now. The guard tackled him from behind, and knocked him face-first towards the floor.

‘Got you now you ****ing scumbag’, panted Neary.

The young man groaned as Neary cuffed him from behind. Neary lifted him to his feet, and pulled down his hood. His blood ran cold. He knew the face of the youth he had apprehended. He knew it well. The two men stood in silence for a sickening moment as the dawning realization registered on the lines of Neary’s face.

‘Ronan... what the...?’ Neary could barely get the words out of his mouth.

Ronan Neary looked away from his father’s pale face, and cast his eyes down towards the ground.


If you read the whole thing cheers for reading, hope you enjoyed let me know what you think.
Also advice on what I might need to change in order to shift this from a short story to a first chapter of a novel would be much appreciated.

EileenG

Excellent story, I really enjoyed it. Personally, I might have mentioned his family a little earlier in the story, but that's your choice.

The only other thing is technical. I would shorten some of the paragraphs a bit. Big blocks of text are tiring to read and you tend to skip through them. I missed your reference to Neary's family the first time I read it, because it was at the end of a long paragraph.

Morzadec

EileenG wrote: »

Excellent story, I really enjoyed it. Personally, I might have mentioned his family a little earlier in the story, but that's your choice.

The only other thing is technical. I would shorten some of the paragraphs a bit. Big blocks of text are tiring to read and you tend to skip through them. I missed your reference to Neary's family the first time I read it, because it was at the end of a long paragraph.

Thanks for taking the time to read EileenG.

I wanted to name drop Ronan without making it too obvious that he was important so that the end is a twist I suppose. But you're right I think I will have to delve into Neary's home-life a bit more (and perhaps a bit earlier) if I want to extend this. Then again, don't want to make the end too obvious...

Point taken on the long paragraphs, just looking at them there they do look a little daunting, hopefully dosn't put off others reading...

LowOdour

Any chance of a summary? :P

LowOdour

Me again, read it. was ok, abit colour by numbers but a good effort. I liked the end of it i have to say. Like the other poster said, had to re-read to see who Ronan was but again,that has to do with the long paragraphs. Fair play!

jumpguy

"Ronan Neary looked away from his father’s pale face, and cast his eyes down towards the ground."

"His FATHER's face". Did that not make it clear who Ronan was?

Anyway, I thought it was excellent. I thought it was a good idea to include his back-story in the middle, although if you were to write a novel I think I'd rather it as a prologue (and longer obviously) to get me into the story, but as said, it's up to you. On the other hand, I thought it was good because at the beginning the reader was wondering "why isn't he in Dublin anymore?" so it kept me reading.
It's a great plot and very well thought out, thanks for the read.

Morzadec

Cheers for responses :pac:

davyjose

One of the few long pieces here to hold my interest to the end. really enjoyed it. Any more?

pickarooney

I liked it a lot and was thankful that for once someone had taken the trouble to space out and spell-check a stroy before posting it.
One criticism I would have would be the repetition in the early paragraphs, you kind of labour the point that Neary was once a big-shot drug-buster in the big smoke, but that's only a minor issue and easily remedied if you want to consider that advice.

The dialog is also a little flat, although the short sentences (themselves conducive to the nice pace of the piece) don't allow for much embellishment. If you were to make this part of a novel, you might want to look into working the Sligo and Dublin accents in there or giving individual characters more recognisable speech patterns.

"Neary shot Doran a look of disgust and cursed his stupidity"
I wasn't sure if the 'his' here referred to Doran (for his naive reaction) or Neary (for not briefing the younger man better). Maybe disambiguate?

A last minor quibble is the use of the word 'unsynchronised' which I think is incorrect. It should probably be 'uncoordinated' or similar.

Morzadec

Wow cheers for responses!:D

Pickarooney - nice one for the suggestions, they might be small things but it contributes to the overall impression of the piece so your advice is useful.

Davyjose - No as I said this is the only thing I've actually written down, mainly because I'm a lazy procrastinator and the only reason this was written was because I actually had to write something as it was a college assignment.

I suppose I wasn't 100% sure if my writing was good because your parents are hardly going to tell you it's shite. After reading these responses though I must say I'm very encouraged so I will hopefully try and write more over the next year

pickarooney

You won't get far with hopefully trying. Make a concrete plan.

EileenG

Just write. You are already better than many of the hopefuls I've seen and you'll improve with practice.

Some of the most successful writers I know are not good writers at all. But they keep writing, produce whatever they promise, and give the editors what they ask for. There are plenty of people out there with a real gift, but they just never seem to put words on paper.

davyjose

Morzadec wrote: »

Wow cheers for responses!:D

Pickarooney - nice one for the suggestions, they might be small things but it contributes to the overall impression of the piece so your advice is useful.

Davyjose - No as I said this is the only thing I've actually written down, mainly because I'm a lazy procrastinator and the only reason this was written was because I actually had to write something as it was a college assignment.

I suppose I wasn't 100% sure if my writing was good because your parents are hardly going to tell you it's shite. After reading these responses though I must say I'm very encouraged so I will hopefully try and write more over the next year

The weird thing about writing well, is that it seems so close to so many. And yet so few can. we can speak with a turn of phrase, and we can read bestsellers, and say "I can do that". The thing is, though, very few can. I think you can. You need to work hard at it, nobody can just be World class at something first go, but they can have the gifts to excel -- if the work is put in. You have something. Difinitely.

But if you want this, you have to work HARD at it. You think Cristiano Ronaldo is a good footballer? It's easy to ignore the infinite hours of practice, and the fitness he's developed throughout his life. You have the raw ingredients, few do; don't waste it.

pog it

Definitely agree with DavyJose, you really do have the raw talent. Even though your story and theme isn't the kind I usually read, your style reminds me of a really good short Irish language novel I read a couple of weeks ago called 'An Siondaicáit' which is a crime novel (the only one I've ever read of that genre) and your piece was similarly engaging and well written.

Morzadec

Cool thanks to all for the encouragment and motivation, seriously. Going away next week but once September comes I'll give it a real go. I have some plot ideas for what might come next for Neary and Ronan.

Does anyone know of any good online resources or books that outline good ways of planning out your plot? Or would you recommend that I just find my one my own way that suits me? I have a decent knowledge of general story structure/plot points etc., I guess if I just start writing things down roughly it might start to take some sort of shape. It's all in my head at the moment though!

EileenG

Carry a notebook at all times and jot down anything that occurs to you.

When you come to start writing, I'm a fan of the whiteboard. Mark out all the main characters and an outline of your plot. Note any scenes that you absolutely have to have, and put in possibilities as they occur to you. It's a white board, you can take off things if they are not working.

You can use it, or a smaller one for marking out the elements of complicated scenes.

iguana

You write well but I was wondering about what research you did. The Gardaí are not generally armed, only specialist units have guns, so having your character shoot and kill someone is far fetched. It's also very, very unusual for a Garda to shoot and kill someone and if they did it would create a media sh!t-storm and would be carefully investigated.

You also had the Gardaí enter and search a home without a warrant which isn't legal. Even a sh!tty solicitor would be able to get anyone arrested in such circumstances off on a technicality as the arrest would be unlawful. And the Gardaí can legally hold a suspect for 72 hours without charge, so that's probably long enough to expect someone to need to empty their bowels. Especially if you put a few eye-drops in their tea.

You might think I'm being pedantic but glaring inaccuracies tend to batter people's suspension of disbelief and make them stop caring about the story. To me I'm left with the feeling that the author doesn't really care about their characters, and if they don't care, why should I? If you are going to include Garda procedure in a work of fiction you should go have a chat someone in your local station and ask them how things work.

Dublin141

Just skimmed through it so no critique here except that I love the ending.

I was just wondering why you are waiting until September?? Why not start right now?

Writing is a skill and like any other it takes practice to become really good at it. My tip for you is to write every day just to get into the habit. My second tip is to stop worrying if it's good or bad. That's what editing is for and to be honest, editing while you write tends to become pointless because you are too close to the text iykwim. Nanowrimo is brilliant for getting into a habit of writing regularly and not worrying what other people might think of what you have written. No writer wrote a brilliant piece of writing on their first try so bear that in mind.

Sorry for the mini-lecture, I just hate to see people waste their talents because they worry they aren't good enough.

plissken

Excellent work, very enjoyable read, KEEP WRITHING it will pay dividend's.

Morzadec

iguana wrote: »

You write well but I was wondering about what research you did. 1.The Gardaí are not generally armed, only specialist units have guns, so having your character shoot and kill someone is far fetched. It's also very, very unusual for a Garda to shoot and kill someone and if they did it would create a media sh!t-storm and would be carefully investigated.

2.You also had the Gardaí enter and search a home without a warrant which isn't legal. Even a sh!tty solicitor would be able to get anyone arrested in such circumstances off on a technicality as the arrest would be unlawful. And the Gardaí can legally hold a suspect for 72 hours without charge, so that's probably long enough to expect someone to need to empty their bowels. Especially if you put a few eye-drops in their tea.

You might think I'm being pedantic but glaring inaccuracies tend to batter people's suspension of disbelief and make them stop caring about the story. To me I'm left with the feeling that the author doesn't really care about their characters, and if they don't care, why should I? If you are going to include Garda procedure in a work of fiction you should go have a chat someone in your local station and ask them how things work.

Yeh some very valid points raised cheers!

Honestly, my research was very limited and didn't extend far beyond Wikipedia

1.I'm pretty sure there was something there about the Organised Crime Unit being a special unit that was allowed to be armed? Neary was meant to be in one of these specialist units that you mentioned so I think I'm okay on this one. I'll have to researsh further though you're right.

2. Very valid points, but I reckon I can find a way round them. Neary (being the maverick he is) is not one to bend to rules and warrants so proceeds on the tip without one. Knows he's in the shit once the suspects lawyer comes so rushes through the attainment of evidence. Something like this perhaps? Or could just say that they did have a warrant maybe. Or the fact that they didn't have one being a contributory factor to the charge being quashed. Is it really 72 hours that you can be held on a drug charge? I remember trying to find this out but didn't know so just kinda guessed it would be about 12 hours without a charge.

Don't at all think you're being pedantic I appreciate your advice, thank you. I wonder how willing my local gardai would be in answering any questions I might have... Only one way to find out I suppose

Morzadec

Dublin141 wrote: »

Just skimmed through it so no critique here except that I love the ending.

I was just wondering why you are waiting until September?? Why not start right now?

Writing is a skill and like any other it takes practice to become really good at it. My tip for you is to write every day just to get into the habit. My second tip is to stop worrying if it's good or bad. That's what editing is for and to be honest, editing while you write tends to become pointless because you are too close to the text iykwim. Nanowrimo is brilliant for getting into a habit of writing regularly and not worrying what other people might think of what you have written. No writer wrote a brilliant piece of writing on their first try so bear that in mind.

Sorry for the mini-lecture, I just hate to see people waste their talents because they worry they aren't good enough.

Thanks for reading Dublin 141, and for the words of encouragement.

Waiting until September because I'm working a fair bit at the minute and am going on holiday for about three weeks or so in a weeks time. I've only really decided to pursue this in the last few days, mainly due to the positive responses on here.

What is Nanowrimo I have never heard of it?

Dublin141

If I was you I wouldn't wait, I'd get cracking right away

Nanowrimo is National Novel Writing Month - In November, people sign up and try to write a 50,000 word novel in one month. It's good fun because it completely changes how you write. It's for the challenge but you find yourself wanting to keep on writing afterwards (simply because you are so used to it) and with a bit of editing, the trash you roll out during November can be salvaged. It puts you in a different mindset, encourages you to keep writing without a regard to quality or what anyone else thinks and then you take a break from the story then later go back to it and see what you do with it.

I am a very pessimistic person when it comes to my writing but I feel absolutely free during Nanowrimo. The website is www.nanowrimo.org I think. There are forums there - people meet up in Dublin and other parts of the country (and world) during November supposedly to work on their writing. There are wee competitions between counties to see who has the greatest word count at the end and things like that. Puts a bit of fun into it. Just something to think about if you procrastinate a lot or like a challenge or just want to do something different.

Morzadec

Dublin141 wrote: »

If I was you I wouldn't wait, I'd get cracking right away

Nanowrimo is National Novel Writing Month - In November, people sign up and try to write a 50,000 word novel in one month. It's good fun because it completely changes how you write. It's for the challenge but you find yourself wanting to keep on writing afterwards (simply because you are so used to it) and with a bit of editing, the trash you roll out during November can be salvaged. It puts you in a different mindset, encourages you to keep writing without a regard to quality or what anyone else thinks and then you take a break from the story then later go back to it and see what you do with it.

I am a very pessimistic person when it comes to my writing but I feel absolutely free during Nanowrimo. The website is www.nanowrimo.org I think. There are forums there - people meet up in Dublin and other parts of the country (and world) during November supposedly to work on their writing. There are wee competitions between counties to see who has the greatest word count at the end and things like that. Puts a bit of fun into it. Just something to think about if you procrastinate a lot or like a challenge or just want to do something different.

Sounds like a cool idea. 50,000 words seems like a lot for one month :eek: Although I suppose it's not even 2,000 a day, and this story is about 4,000 words and was done in a night so very possible if you get down to it, true.

Off topic from this story - Out of interest, is there anyone on these boards who has a knowledge of/interest in writing for children? I started writing a story a couple of weeks ago that would be intended as a children's picture book (obviously would need a collaborator to do the artwork). One of several projects in the pipeline for this year, we'll see how it goes. Think I should try narrow my scope on these creative endeavors though I reckon...

EileenG

I have just finished my first novel for teenagers, now working on second (and trying to get first published). But I think writing for young children is a different skill set.

pickarooney

Morzadec wrote: »

Don't at all think you're being pedantic I appreciate your advice, thank you. I wonder how willing my local gardai would be in answering any questions I might have... Only one way to find out I suppose

You could always give the emergency services forum a go, otherwise.

EileenG

Gardai answer strange questions all the time. They're just delighted if they can be helpful without having to fill out a bunch of paperwork afterwards.

I recently asked my local Gardai a bunch of questions about how they would respond to complaints about breastfeeding in public.