Farran Street is right up the road. Like less than 100 yards from where I live.
I know we joke about Limerick being called “Stab City,” and I’ve been told more than once that all the drunken late-night beatings seem to happen up on Barrack Street. But this was a shooting. In the middle of the day. I was walking past that street at 1.30, I was home all day after that. I don’t even remember hearing it.
But what really scares me is finding out that there’s some sort of turf war happening right outside my door.
Filed under: oh my god what the fuck, whatevs
When I lived in DC a guy apparently got knifed right outside my door. I slept through it (my girlfriend didn’t), but his bloody, stabbed jacket was on my stoop when we went out in the morning.
Hey, people gotta get shot/stabbed/poisoned -somewhere-, right?