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June 11, 2005

DUBLIN

The bridges are great, the streets are great but most of all it’s the people who make Dublin city great. So let’s spend one short day with them. 9.15am O’Connell Street, A middle aged man shouts over to elderly woman on the street. “How’s it going there, Dolores? Keeping well?” She shouts back loudly, “Sound as a euro, Pat, sound as a euro.” 11.55pm, Roddy Boland’s Bar in Rathmines, a group of Italian guys (tourists) are trying to chat up two Irish girls and aren’t getting very far. One of the lads is in the middle of a poetic speech about one of the girls and her “beautiful pale skin”. “In my country,” he says, “you would be a princess.” She glares at him. “And in my country, you’d work in a chipper,” and with that she walks off. 2.30pm, Parnell Street, A flustered D4 woman is runs up the path and hops onto the bus just before it takes off. “What number bus is this?” she enquires. “It’s a forty,” says the Dublin driver, “It says so on the front.” She looks confused. “Yes, but it says 40a on the side and 40c on the back.” “Well I’m not going sideways or backwards,” says the driver.

6.43pm Dublin Airport Arrivals, A young man in a pale blue shirt has just arrived in the country and is furiously looking for the toilet. He runs around the arrivals hall until he spots it. He runs in only to find a queue. The disabled toilet is free and he can’t wait any longer. When he comes out he’s met by the scowl of an old man still waiting in the queue for the regular toilet. “Jaysus,” he says, “It’s a bleeding miracle!” 12.24pm, The 51b bus in traffic, A seven year old kid is talking to his mother about her choice of Holy Communion suit colours. “I don't want cream, Ma. Cream is for girls. Girls are gay. I'm not gay. I want black. Black is deadly.” 4.53pm, Ballyfermott, Two Dubs in tracksuits are walking through the park. “Let’s go into town,” says Mark. “I have to go to the post office first,” says Gav. “We’ll go to the GPO.” “Is there a post office there?” 9.02am, the 90 bus, two girls from Wexford are sitting on the top deck of the bus. They’re passing by the Four Courts when one exclaims, “Look Susan, it’s the GPO!”

7.49pm, the number 122, Two young girls are sitting at the very back of the bus with a five year old. “Darren who’s yer Da?” one of them asks. “Go on Darren tell us what’s yer Da’s name?” The boy mumbles “Mark,” to which one of them roars back, “"No ya big ejit, your other Da!” 8.16pm, the back of a cab headed for Hueston Station, a content columnist is looking out at the quays as they fly by and then to the beautiful red sky. “Red sky at night…,” he says out loud. “…Tallaght’s on fire,“ intercepts the cab driver.

Trains, Buses & Automobiles by Liam Geraghty appears every week in the Kildare Nationalist.

Posted by LiamG at June 11, 2005 01:46 AM