Thursday, January 14, 2010

1:01

"Careful outside, our driveway is the last place in Dublin to still have patches of ice."

As was his flat, judging from this evening. It meant that one of the two extra layers I'd applied for outside wear had never been removed once I'd arrived over to drink some beer and share in his team's further ignominy. And now it's too late for a bus and I don't feel insulated sufficiently against the freezing fog that shrouds the Rathgar road.

I hunch my shoulders and truck homewards, knowing it's not really that far of a walk. A dark figure shambles out of the mist toward me. Look straight ahead and don't make eye contact, Andrew, that's how you keep them from murdering you and raping your corpse. It works.

Dozens upon hundreds of taxis crawl past me, with hopeful lights on top that say "Hey big boy, me bring you home long time five dollah." I pat my empty wallet and think there was a time, lads, there was a time. I walk past a blonde girl with a warm-looking hat on. She looks straight ahead and doesn't make eye contact.

Eddie Rocket's of Rathmines is open and deserted and I consider throwing them the sop of my company. But I've done nothing to earn fries and a chocolate malt on a Wednesday night. The clock above the Swan makes for an eerie backlit sight in these conditions. I wish momentarily that I had a camera with me, then I remember that cameras don't really get fog, especially at night.

Tramco has less punters than the net café next door. Taxis queue outside Rain Niteclub as it dry-retches no-one to their bosoms. In the future, when my grandchildren ask me what I remember of The Grand Depression I will say "Taxis, so very many taxis." 7,247 of them I've counted now, though I have been drinking. Aprile's takeaway are still doing brisk business - those beautiful, greasy, durable bastards. It takes all of my bravery to stare straight ahead and not make eye contact.

 I stumble in the door, hit the leaba without brushing mo fiacla√≠ and fire up the laptop to thaw out my thighs.

12 comment(s):

Rosie said...

i fell asleep with the electric blanket and all of the lights on. toasty.

Jennikybooky said...

Remeber when we used to get taxis? Shur we hadn't a care in the world.

Wistful sigh.

Radge said...

'Those beautful, greasy, durable bastards.'

I've nominated you, oh the irony.

Andrew said...

Rosie - Not toasty enough when I clambered in.

Jennie - I started off the recession by getting more taxis than ever, as I knew they'd be feeling the pinch. I got over that one soon enough.

Radge - It took me a minute to figure out what you were on about. I'm going to try and stay out of bother this year by studiously ignoring them (unless, of course, something pops up that's just so juicy it has to be addressed), so I'll just say "thanks".

Radge said...

Yeah, I was a bit vague, looking at it now.

A pleasure.

Conan Drumm said...

Laptops are sooo like hottlebottles.

Rosie said...

apparently his hottlebottle told him to fuck off when he came looking for cuddles. she doesn't remember this. she was asleep.

Tessa said...

Your trek takes me back, Andrew! Many's the time I walked home that route, all the way from Rathmines to Terenure. 'Twas a long way from taxis we were reared, so it had to be shank's mare all the way home if we stayed out late enough to miss the last 15 bus. Mind you, we didn't have to look out for so many rapers of corpses back then, either.

Jo said...

Bed is the place, alright.

Andrew said...

Radge - I had somehow managed not to have a single blog in my feed-reader that mentioned them. Go me.

Conan - With an added risk of sterilisation due to groin radiation, but yeah.
And she'd never use such industrial language, but I think that was the gist of what she said.

Tessa - They've always been around, your folks just didn't tell you about them.

Jo - You hitting on me again?

Radge said...

Fucked if I'm going to be the first (though one would look lovely under my sink and I'd get an honourable mention at the ma's bingo).

Andrew said...

Fair point, it might convince my ma that i'm doing something worthwhile with my life while unemployed.

And perhaps a mention in the Wicklow People.