My annoyance didn’t stem from the fact that Molloy had, once again, inserted herself into my life by tagging along to the pitch with me. Nor did it come from the play-by-play she had given me on the walk over of the day trip that she had taken with Casey earlier this summer, to the Aqua Dome in Tralee. Yeah, apparently, Molloy deemed me to be a good enough friend of hers to subject me to a detailed account of her misadventure with a rogue tampon string.
