I ventured forth last night into the Hell Hole that is Dublin City.
I had an invitation from the NetVisionary people to free drinks, which is always an incentive to an old codger. I think they just needed to satisfy their curiosity that I existed and wasn’t a geeky teenager.
I decided to drive in. I could have taken a bus or a Luas or the Dart, but in my new policy of being as eco-unfriendly as possible and creating the biggest carbon footprint I could, I decided to take the tractor.
It’s about ten years since I have been in Dublin. Now I know why. It is a mess.
One of the things that really p*sses me off on the roads is people who stop in the queue in front of me and insist on keeping their foot on the brake pedal. I was taught that this is a dangerous practice, but now everyone does it [exept me]. The result is that I’m sitting there with a massive array of brake lights six feet in front of me, trying to blind me. And brake lights seem to be getting bigger and brighter. And they are putting them higher up so they shine right in my face. By the time I parked, I was in a right state, and 90% blind.
It was a strange evening. People would come up to me and ask who I was. “Grandad” I’d reply, and they’d go scurrying off to the far side of the room and give me strange looks. They were all computery people, so I felt a bit out of place. I didn’t like to mention that I use a Remington typewriter wired to the television.
I did meet some very nice people. It turned out they were punk rockers. I’m not sure what they were doing there. There was also another very nice chap who had wandered in off the street. He was about my age, and had been working with computers for the last forty years. The original geek? The problem was that he was about eight feet tall so conversation was difficult. I didn’t catch his name. It went over my head.
I left when they threw me out. I nearly got run over by a strange yoke in the road that turned out to be a Luas. A weird looking beast. Though it did bring back distant memories of the good old trams, and at least I can now say I have seen a Luas and lived to tell the tale.
On the way home, I got stuck behind a f*cker driving a Mercedes SUV. It was enormous. The back of it was covered in brake lights that I swear he robbed off the airport runway. He insisted on shining them into my face at their full 300 megawatts every time he stopped. He was very proud of that ‘car’. It was brand new, and not a scratch on it.
It has now.