Hi Morgan

I'm tempted to only address these posts to you because you're the only one who reads this. Even with the high irregularity of my posts, you're still hungry for Mhmm. Oh well. This is a story I wrote during my Ireland trip between sophomore and junior year. It was during the first or second day in Dublin, or on our trip as a whole. I'm not that much of a writer and I certainly wasn't then, but I still hope you like it.

Dublin Taxi - Aug 3

We were already waiting for him when the taxi driver pulled up in front of Kinlay House. He pulled up with half of the car on the sidewalk; the engine was still running. When he stepped out of the cab I could see he was about thirtyfive. His face was slightly red and his hair was gelled slightly back. I stepped toward the trunk to put my suitcase in when he came up to me.

"Wahr ya headed" he asked. He smelled of cigarettes. I mumbled something about the Dublin Docks or Port and when it became apparent to him that I wasn't going to answer his question, he asked my parents. They told the man when we were going to Dublin Port. I was more of less right. I was just too afraid to let my kinsman know I had an accent.

After we put everything in the trunk, we piled in the car. Not surprisingly, it also smelled like cigarettes. I glanced over at what I thought was the driver's seat and raised my eyebrows when Dad popped in. When I looked over to the right, I realized that I made the usual mistake of a foreigner in Ireland. I knew Irish people drove on the wrong...left side of the road, but i guess it takes more than a day to fully kick in.

The cab driver stepped in teh car and put it into drive. We were about a block away from out hostel when he honked his horn at some jaywalker. I wasn't really paying attention, though. For some reason I started staring at his shirt. It was white, with yellow and blue squares. I bet it smelled like cigarettes. Then out of the silence, my dad spoke.

"So how'd you spend your Bank Holiday? We just figured out about it yesterday and were wondering why all the shops were closed." He was stuttering a bit.

"Wa's thaht?" the cabbie asked. I think it was a combination of my fathers inarticulation and the driver's simply not caring that allowed the question to be repeated.

"I said 'How'd you spend your Bank Holiday?'" Dad repeated.

"Drank mostly.. Typical thing to do, eh?" I guess it was.

"Well, which pub did you go to?" Dad asked. "Normally," he added. the cabbie thought about it for a second.

"The Dogs Bollox, or whichever has the loudest singing." It sounded like fun. "No offence, but at least if Americans are there, they got some big balls...I mean guts." He honked at someone on the sidewalk. "Friend o' mine..."

"So who do you usually drive around? Who are your usual sutomers?" Dad was an obvious American. He asked too many questions; ones that he certainly wouldn't ask an American cabbie.

"Oh, you konw. Families like you. Umm... Stags and hens.." He wasn't used to these kinds of questions.

"Oh..yea. And a hen.. would be..?"

"A married lady."

"Of course, of course." After a couple seconds of silence, the cabbie's cell phone rang. It was a blue Samsung. My cousin Joe had one of those fresh off the market from Japan the last time I saw him. Four years later, this cabbie had the same model. He picked up the earpiece from the ashtray and plugged it in the appropriate orafice.

"Oy, yea?"

"Sean, wahr ye goin? You fookin honk me down and zoom by!" The phone was quite loud and I could hear ever crackle quite clearly.

"Stop corsin!" he chuckled, "I've got pahssengers!"

"Speak louder! I cahn't fookin 'ear you."

"I said stop your corsin! I got fookin..I got pahssengers."

"Oy. I'll call ye back later then. Cheers."

"Cheers, mate" He looks sheepishly back at us. "Sorry about thaht"

"No problem," said my dad. My mother looked unamused. We drove in silence for another six or seven minutes before we reached the Port. We got out and boarded the ferry. It was a long way to England.




Meh. My story ended prematurely so i had to remember what happened for the last couple lines. But it's done.