Eh…asking for a friend…

Well, that was a fun trip. Some a**holes set fire to the tracks which delayed the train. Fine. Had enough time to get home, pick up my car and drive to the dentist. Nope. Because of the delay, Irish Rail decide to terminate the train at Howth Junction. Instead of waiting for the next train, I decide to walk as I’ll miss my appointment otherwise. So I traipse down the steps and out on to road – in heels – followed by three young fellas comparing notes on techniques used by their girlfriends in giving…eh…hand relief. I arrive at my destination with aching feet, a sweat drenched face and none the wiser about the three lads’ experiences as I couldn’t keep up the pace to glean any tips (asking for a friend).

Parents? Pfft!

“Hi Mum. Can you do me a favour? Yeah? Can you go up to my room and look for a top for me?”
“Are you there?”
“Okay. It’s the pink one I bought recently.”
“No. That’s salmon.”
“No. That’s too pink.”
“Mum. I said PINK not red!”
“It’s like the blue one you like.”
“No. Not that one. The lace one.”
“It’s definitely there.”
“Hanging up.”
“Oh wait… Maybe it’s on the shelf.”
“Yeah. That sounds like it.”
How many arms does it have?”
“I meant sleeves. You know I meant sleeves!”
“No. I am not getting angry.”
“No. I am not upset.”
“Yes. I am grateful.”
“Yes. I do know you’re doing me a favour.”
“Okay. So it has one sleeve.”
“Is it left or right?”
“Yes. These things do matter.”
“No. I didn’t put it in the wash.”
“Don’t you trust me??? Why are you going through my laundry basket?”
“Yeah. Well, maybe I did leave it at work.”
“Actually, now that I think about it. I did leave it at work.”
“We all make mistakes.”
“Huh?”
“Be like that then!”

And clicking off the phone, she turns to the rest of us, throws her eyes up to heaven and mutters “Parents? Pfft!”

I miss my tribe

Heading to the Southside for the second time in a week. It seems like the start of a defection!

My fellow commuters this evening are an eclectic bunch. In my carriage sit two glorious ZZ Top lookalikes, enjoying the scenery as they stroke their long beards. Behind them sits the customary bunch of summer munchers with their Beshoff and Burdocks snack boxes. The girl now sitting in front of me has applied a full face of make-up *and* tonged her entire head of hair into neat little ringlets, moisturised her hands and chatted on the phone the whole time. And over these sights can be heard the informative conversation of some 13+ year old lads discussing their sexual leanings and an older teen (a 14+ year old girl) saying she has to move away from them in case anyone mistakes her for “a paedophile”…

I so miss commuting on a daily basis. I so miss my tribe!