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June 05, 2005

Fate Drinks Juice

Friday 11th June – 7.50am

This morning, for no good reason, I’ve decided to catch the 8.15am train to Heuston. The idea there is that I want to be in Dublin early but not too early and, as the 8.15pm only makes three stops on its journey, it’s the 100% perfect train for me. I leave my abode at around 7.40am, which gives me plenty of time to mosey on down to Newbridge Station. However I’ve inadvertently I’ve arrived a bit too early at the station. What’s wrong with this, you ask? Well now, just as I’m walking into the station car park, an earlier train (which is late) is just pulling up at the platform. Fate is toying with me. I’m now forced to run as fast as I can into the station, up the steps, over the walking-bridge, down the steps (naturally) and onto the early train that I didn’t want to catch. To add insult to injury, I now must walk the whole length of the train just so I can be in the top carriage. Again you question my motives. Why not take a seat in the carriage you hoped onto? You’re thinking right. My little quirks have seized all control over the things I must do. One of those being that I have to sit in the top carriage. Makes sense really. It means I’m first off the train and first to the bus. Or if I decide to buy a paper or whatever, it leaves me time to buy a paper (or whatever) and still be one of the first onto the bus.

So now I’m on the train (top carriage, obviously), speeding towards Heuston. The journey’s not long as, to further fates twisted sense of humour, this train isn’t stopping at ANY stations. It’s clear sailing. Well, driving. You know what I mean. When we pull in to Heuston Station, I’m second off the train (blast it!). I figure since I’ve arrived too early, I have time to spare. And I’ve also thirst to quench. With these two voids to fill, I draw only one conclusion – the Jus Juice bar. The Jus Juice bar, you’ll have undoubtedly noticed, sits neatly in the middle of Huestion Station. Adorned by all manner of fruit, they offer a variety of juices and smoothies. It was only last week that I discovered the existence of this trendy little place. Like you, I seen it, but never took the time to really look at it. When I did though, I ordered, what they call an “Aruba”. A smoothie that’s a blend of strawberries, apples and a subtle hint of banana. At €4.70 it was an expensive luxury but one I was now frightfully addicted to. So, for the next few days I bought nothing but Arubas’s. On any given day I could be spotted wandering around Heuston Station carrying some sort of pink beverage in a hip container that I’ve seen Carrie Bradshaw drinking out of. So now we have established the background detail necessary for the telling of what happened today. I had time (and cash) to spare and quench to thirst, remember?

The Jus Juice bar beckoned. A strange thing happened when I got there though. Somewhere deep inside me (probably a little bit left on my right lung) a voice said, “Liam, today I think we shall try something different. You’ve drank far too many Aruba’s than one ought to in the space of a week.” Concurring with my little friend, I looked up at the menus where each smoothie and juice had been given it’s own name, followed by a description of the fruits that combined to make it. There was something called a “Flu Avader”, presumably it evaded Flu, which was no good to me, in my current state of good health. There was something called an “Orgasmic” but I wasn’t going to ask the girl behind the counter for one of those. Not at this time of the morning anyway. Time was running out. The customer in front of me was just about to walk away with his juice so my choice had to be now. A top the counter behind some fruit, I spotted a petite chalkboard that I hadn’t noticed before. It had but one smoothie on it. The “Tango Mango”. Instantly I knew it was the one. Beneath it, the description said it contained orange, kiwi, mango and lemon. Zesty. So I placed my order and the girl proceeded to throw the various fruits into various blenders. But then an odd thing happened. She picked up a carrot. Now don’t ask me where she got it, as it happened all too quick. She placed the carrot into a blender. I eyed this proceeding with the naivety of youth. Yes, while I seen her blending the carrot and despite the fact that there weren’t any customers apart from myself, I still really didn’t think the carrot have anything to do with my “Tango Mango”. But (and there’s always a but) as my eyes wandered around the counter they found themselves back at the little chalkboard. With the slightest of head turnings I could see now, one ingredient to my smoothie that had previously been concealed by a pineapple. I’m not sure, but I may have heard that little voice mumble “You idiot.” Either way, the fact remained. There was a carrot in my “Tango Mango”. Good-natured fellow that I am, I bid the girl behind the counter adieu and, “Tango Mango” in hand I headed for the bus. Yes, I did drink it. Yes, it was zesty and yes, there was a subtle hint of carrot. I think I’ll stick to the Aruba’s in future.

Some minutes later, the number 90 arrived at O’Connell Bridge. I made my way over to Grafton St. to let my wallet be tempted by various products I don’t need but have to own. Why it was in HMV that I spotted a newly released DVD of ‘Fraggle Rock’. A lone tear rolled down from my nostalgic eye onto my cheek. Several minutes later (Fraggle Rock, Series 1, in hand) I was making my way out of Grafton St. Soon after that I was sitting in an internet café overlooking the ha’penny bridge. In fact, it is where I’m sitting right now as I write this. Outside people are opening umbrellas and are running for shelter as it has just started to pour with rain. And of course, I’ve just remembered that I’ve forgotten to bring an umbrella. Touché, fate. Touché.

Trains, Buses & Automobiles by Liam Geraghty appears every week in the Kildare Nationalist (page 6)

Posted by LiamG at June 5, 2005 09:24 PM