Notice in local coffee shop…
‘Cappucino, Latte, Mocha and Flat White *all* contain milk!’
Ever get the feeling they are tired answering the *same* question?!?
Notice in local coffee shop…
‘Cappucino, Latte, Mocha and Flat White *all* contain milk!’
Ever get the feeling they are tired answering the *same* question?!?
Gotta love people who curl up on the train against the window, with their headphones on, whispering into them “I can’t really talk…” before belting out some of their top 50 most embarrassing secrets.
Girl opposite me is roaring into the phone with all the finesse of Dom Joly on ‘Trigger Happy’. She started with a few sympathetic comments about Anthony “Axel” Foley’s sad passing before commenting on his weight and then fat shamed – names included – all in her own family in *extensive* detail. Oh, how she laughed. Of one couple, she remarked “Sure, it will be Easter before they eat their way over from the States.” After so many minutes of this I feel like throttling her!
October 2016
In Hospital and the Nurse asks
‘Is that your surname?’
‘No’, says I. ‘It’s half my first name.’
‘So you are actually called that?’
‘Yes.’
‘And you are ACTUALLY called that?’ as she bangs her pen against my name on the page for extra effect.
‘Yes’.
‘And it’s a real name?’
‘Yes’.
‘And you spelt it correctly?’
‘Yes. I spelt my own name correctly.’
‘And how long have you been using that name?’
’46 years.’
‘Why 46 years?’
‘It was the name given to me at my Christening.’
‘Hmmmmmm’, goes the nurse as she turns to leave abruptly.
____
Later, the same nurse comes over to me, like a scene from ‘Hello, Hello’ (“Listen very carefully, I shall say this only once…”). Leaning in as close as possible, she whispers to me ‘I know someone who’s Church of Ireland or Church of England or whatever you are.’ ‘Anglican’ replies I. ‘That too’, says she as she turns on her heel to leave the room.
Last night on the Dart – three young wans were yapping:
Girl 1: “She broke up with him because it was getting too serious.”
Girl 2: “Seriously? She seriously broke up with him because it was getting too serious? Seriously?”
Other two: “SERIOUSLY!”
“You’re going to Leitrim?”
“Yes”, replies the other lady.
“Why would you go there?”
“Because it’s beautiful. Why wouldn’t I go there?”
“Because it’s really dangerous.”
“Huh?”
“Eh…It’s called ‘Stab City’!!!”
“That’s Limerick, you Muppet!”
“Oh…”
Monday
“Do X and X live here?”
“No.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, they left 11 years ago.”
“That’s very exact.”
“We bought the house from them.”
“Oh.”
Tuesday
“Do X and X live here?”
“No.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, they left 11 years ago. We bought the house from them.”
“Oh. We had this conversation yesterday, didn’t we?”
“Yes we did.”
This morning
“X and X still don’t live here?”
“No change from yesterday.”
“No harm in asking.”
“How’s work?”
“Meh.”
“Why?”
“I deal with unhappy people *all* day long.”
“So?”
“Crying. Screaming at me. Telling me all their problems. Threatening me. One even called me a ‘stupid bitch’ today.”
“But that must be rewarding in so many ways.”
“Huh?”
“I mean, don’t you feel good helping people?”
“Eh…what exactly do you think I do?”
“You’re a counselor or something?”
“Hell, no. I work in Customer Care.”
The man beside me has bugs. The man opposite him has bugs. They are coughing in unison. The lady behind me is filling in the gaps with repetitive sneezing. It’s times like this I wish I was wrapped in cling film or, at the very least, wearing a discrete dollop of Eau de Milton.
Pop to the village for groceries in my usual Sunday attire of tracksuit bottoms, runners, hoodie and no makeup. Random man stops me and says “Can I ask you a personal question? How do you look so easy?” I am horrified – “‘Easy’ as in ‘slut’?” I ask. The man is completely taken aback, starts spluttering apologies, that he doesn’t mean that at all. “No, you just look so beautiful with no makeup on, so natural. You make it look so easy, ” says he as he continues to apologise! I smile – uneasily – as I walk away…