A Dumbass in Dublin

The Irish are such nice, friendly peeps. It is kind of like the Midwest, there is very little pretension, everyone is just generally cool.

A prime example of this occurred yesterday as I was leaving the apartment we rented for this week near Smithfield Market in north/central Dublin. Well, as usual my mind was racing as I was walking out the the apartment to meet Dave - it went something like this:

OK I want to walk by that adorable vintage dress shop....what is the quickest way to Dave's office....maybe walking through Trinity College would be cool....I should have brought Pillars of the Earth with me because I am dying to know if the wall held off the invaders....must throw the trash away that I have in my hand....I wonder how late the Guiness tour goes....if we meet at 6 and dinner isn't until 8 will be be drunk before dinner....I should have brought a curling iron....I hate that you cannot break a 50Euro bill anywhere in Dublin and that is all the ATM gives you....I should have taken a nap....etc.

Anyway, did you see in there that line about must throw the trash away that I have in my hand.... well I threw the trash away then 5 seconds later checked my bag to make sure I had the apartment keys in my purse, and OH SHIT - no keys in my Hermione Granger bag (that bag holds everything). I must have thrown them away with the trash can. 

Said trash can.

In case you hadn't noticed, that is one VERY secure, non-break-inable, trash can. Shit. So I managed to stick my arm into that grubby can, but no luck. It is just too deep. 

While I am trying to tip over the can, reach in, break the thing open, several people stop and ask if they can help. Dudes, women, a homeless guy, and we are all sticking our arms into the grubby gross can......and the homeless guy even tried to use his allen-wrench to open the can and get inside. How sweet! 

But it was no use, that can is unbreakable. Just when I wasn't sure what I was going to do (besides just drink and try to forget about it), I looked in my purse once more - because it was just not possible this was happening.


And guess what, the stupid keys were IN MY PURSE THE WHOLE FREAKING TIME! No that is not possible, I looked....several times...... I attribute it to the leprechans, being that the apartment is just blocks from the National Leprechaun Museum.


So there you have it. No less than four Irish people willing to stick their arms up to the armpit into a dirty trash can to help a stranger. What a great place!