Dublin is Like This

WHAT IT IS LIKE In an effort to streamline my journey to the stable, I left work early, cut through Trinity, and made directly for the LUAS… which is an acronym for something I can’t be bothered to Google right now. It’s the tram, and it takes me out to a place where I can get a taxi that takes about fifteen minutes and costs little over a tenner.

The taxi rank is up near the shopping centre, and I tend to worry about the queue. As I headed up the main street, I saw a taxi stop, drop someone down, and I started waving my hand at the driver. Saves me a few steps, cost a few cents more, I was happy enough. He waved back, and I legged it across the road, tossing my bag in the back of the car and starting to say, ‘Kilternan, please—’

And the taxi man looked at me in the rearview and said, ‘The stables, yeah?’

This was the third time I’d gotten this particular taxi man. Dublin is in fact like this.

And Dublin is even more like this: Ger wrote his mobile number on the receipt, so that I can text him and let him know when I’m getting off the LUAS so he can come collect me. He needs to drop his young fella off to work just exactly there, you see, so sure why wouldn’t pick me up after and take where I need to go?

What’s not to like?

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