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June 05, 2005

Hash on the Number 15 . . .

Met Jeff Keogh on his way home from school as I walked down to Newbridge train station this week. He takes a look at my trendy red writer’s tote bag. “Are you delivering leaflets?” he quips. Before I get a chance to be outraged he’s already eyeing my long coat that I bought to make me look more like a writer. “Is that your Grandad’s coat?” I decide the best thing to do is hurry along my way. In Dublin this wouldn’t have happened. In the big city there’s a sense of bohemian anonymity regarding fashion. And that’s exactly the look I’m going for.

Up in Hueston I meet Michael Roycroft, owner of the Oscar Cinema, on the top of the 91 bus. We discuss Mel Gibson’s new film The Passion Of The Christ and how the Film Censor’s Office probably dropped the cert from 18’s to 15’s in an attempt to get younger people interested in religion. Some how I think a two-hour long film in Arabic isn’t going to have kids flocking back to Mass on a Sunday. On our slow and arduous bus journey we pass the James Joyce house that seems like it’s been renovating for years. James effin’ Joyce. I despise him. He writes a book that no one can understand but that everyone has. I’m quite glad Roddy Doyle has set the ball rollin’ in terms of Joyce-Bashing. You can be sure I won’t be in Dublin for Bloomsday. I hate liver.

Michael bids adieu and I head off to what I have been calling Trinity Street for the past two years. Turns out its actually called Nassau Street. Insert your own Monopoly joke here. I wait patiently for a number 15 bus to Rathmines. It arrives and I pay the obscene €1.25 bus fare. Dublin Bus try and sneak it up 5cent every once and while and think nobody notices. It’s worst when you don’t have change for the bus so you throw €2 into the ticket machine. The driver then prints you out a refund of 75cent. You can redeem this at Dublin Bus HQ if your bothered and it would seem most people aren’t. Dublin Bus announced last week that over the past 5years commuters have left a colossal €9.5million in un-cashed refunds. Makes you think.

Aboard the number 15 bus to Rathmines I’m sitting in my usual place – third seat from the back on the top of the double-decker. Sitting at the very back of the bus are a tracksuit-clad couple. Dubs. I’ve christened them Ronnie and Charlene. I listen to their conversation intensely. “You’re bleedin’ Mother is rippin’ us off!” says Charlene. “It’s only €75 euros, right?” replies Ronnie. “Your effin’ brother is gettin’ it for way less.” At this point I’m thinking they must be talking about paying rent at home. “Leave me bleedin’ brother outta this, right?” says Ronnie. “It’s 75 effin’ euros! And it’s not even good Hash!” There’s a brief silence. “Fine, right. We won’t get it off me Mother anymore, right?” “Don’t you ‘right’ me, right? Ya can smoke it on your own from now on,” says Charlene. “Right!” says Ronnie, “I will!” Ah, what would love be without a few arguments, eh?

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

Posted by LiamG at June 5, 2005 08:43 PM