The Good Old Days
By Thalia Weaver
So they say a pirate's life is easy, do they? Fetch me another rum and I'll loosen up me lips in response to that... ahh, thank you, that's nice. No, a pirate's life isn't easy, mind yeh; it's got its own share of labor and hardship, an' then there's the stinker that ye've constantly got to be on the lookout for everyone tryin' to kill ye-- and that's not a small number, if ye're a proper pirate.
But they don't make pirates like they used to, no sir. Eh? Romantic figures...ye think pirates are romantic figures? That's a bit of a laugh, if ye don't mind me sayin' so. Most of the pirates I made bluff wiv were dirty scoundrels, two-bit thieves runnin' from anythin' respectable; they'd sell their own mum fer enough gold-- women wouldn't touch 'em, at least not the type of women respectable enough to be havin' romances, if ye catch me drift. But one or two...one or two of the pirates I've met were somethin' special. Ah yes.
Don't stop there, ye say? All right, if ye must. Another rum, please. Me old tongue is gettin' a mite dry wiv all this talkin'. Now...one of them pirates was a fellow by the name of Jack Sparrow-- Captain Jack Sparrow, rather; he always was a mite testy about his rank. The women loved him; he had one in every port this side o' Port Royale, he did. Never quite figured why; I always thought he was one rope short of a rigging, if ye catch my meanin'. I met him once in this very bar...'eadin' to Port Royale, 'e was, to commandeer a ship. At least, that's what I think he said; he was a bit sloshed at that point, and eyein' up th' girls. Ahh, the girls that used t' come t' this very place in the old days... but that's another reminisce, one I could go on for considerably longer.
But back to Sparrow. The man was crazy as a loon, and sang prettier 'n a bird-- could talk his way out o' anythin', that one. Now I've met some pretty colorful characters in me time...but this one topped 'em all. Now, I don' know how he stood by way of romance-- not bein' the sort o' pirate that gets too inquisitive as t' other men's adventures wiv the fairer sex-- but he was a dogged man, the sort of man who kept a gun wiv one bullet, sworn to revenge 'is old first mate....ahh, those were the days. The rum was better; I reckon one tankard could send a man singin' up the street, an' often did. Jack Sparrow, 'e could 'old more rum than I've ever seen a man do before (though truth be told there wasn't much difference b'tween 'im sober an' drunk)...
Aye, that was a proper pirate, no mistake….
Eh? Who was the other one?
Come, laddie, stop askin' me questions. I'm old; I've lost all me teeth, and one of me eyes, too; me bones are crackin'; me friends are mostly dead...I'm tired, lad. Tired of today and longin' fer what's past. But it's good, rememberin'...
Give me some more rum.