Imagine this; you are hungry. Feel it, feel the hunger course through your limbs, numbing them, causing them to grow noticeably heavier. Notice that gnawing sensation of emptiness that claws at your belly, the feeling of your stomach almost collapsing in on itself. You muster the last vestiges of focus available to your increasingly sluggish mind and concentrate, concentrate on hearing your body's calls. You attune your hearing and, from within, notice a small, almost undetectable voice crying - 'Chinese. Get me a Chinese you prick'. You pick up the menu of your local Chinese takeaway and, to your consternation realise that you have left it too late - it closes in a few minutes.
At this point do you either A) cede that some things are not meant to be and either attempt to source food from an alternate takeaway, or perhaps just whip up something yourself, or B) throw caution - and the laws of the land - to the wind and attempt to get to the Chinese before it closes and, in doing so, seemingly attempt to set a new land-speed record on Irish soil by traveling at 174kph, leading of course, to your inevitable arrest.
There are evidently two kinds of people in this world; there are the 7.65 billion or so people who would choose option 'A', and there is apparently one man residing in Strabane who thought anything other than option 'B' was an untenable course of action.
Now while it is a crying shame that the majority of the article has been cut off, and with it seemingly not appearing on their website, we must content ourselves with knowing the scant bits of information that are here available to us and piecing together the rest through non-defamatory conjecture.
From the snippet we can ascertain these facts:
- That he was from Strabane.
- That we was apprehended while traveling along Letterkenny's dual carriageway.
- That he was driving a black Audi.
- That his reasoning, when questioned was that he was 'in a rush because the Chinese was about to close'.
- That he was presumably quite hungry.
He was recorded as traveling at 174kph. To put some context around just how fast this is, some small commercial passenger jets take off at around this speed; it is roughly the speed at which people leave any room that Rónán Mullen enters.
This can surely serve as a lesson to us all, quite what that lesson is however I'm not sure - oh no, wait, it's don't travel at 174kph to get some food.