Feckin Eejit

If you have read my last post about Irish-isms you will understand what my title means. For those who didn’t read it, I will help you, it describes me about two hours ago: a fuckin idiot.

Around 8pm tonight, I gathered up a bunch of food supplies from my room and headed out the door towards the kitchen to make my dinner. With my arms full, I could only use part of my left arm to pull the door slightly closed behind me. I was moving too fast and slammed my elbow on the door frame, causing my arm to jerk forward, slamming the door shut. With my keys on the other side.

Profanities followed.

Of course I go two months without this happening, but in my last week of living here I lock myself out. (?!?!?!?!)

Image[This story will now be added to my first epic lock out story about two years ago which involved kids selling candy, an Indian grandma, and awkward tea and biscuits.]

 

After double checking that the door was indeed locked, I pathetically made my way to the kitchen to tell French Girl and French Guy what I had done. French Guy, having made this mistake before, tried to help my by using his credit card to open the door, unfortunately to no avail.

ImageAfter trying multiple other tactics I was forced to call the Emergency number for Eazy Dublin (with French Guy’s phone), only to find out that I was expected to go down to the middle of the city to the Eazy Dublin office and get the key myself. No, they were not going to come rescue me.

Let me paint you a little picture of my current situation at that time. I had just gotten out of the shower so my hair is dripping wet. I am wearing a tank top (and a bra thank god) and pajama-like shorty shorts. No shoes.

The Italian Landlord Lady on the phone tells me that I have to get on a bus or get a cab and go to city center to meet her, but not for an hour because she can’t be there till 9pm. Oh and call her when I get there.

Image(this is better in gif form but you can imagine)

 

I have Nothing. I have no money, no bus pass, no cell phone… NO SHOES..?!!

She is not phased by any of this information. She says to take these things from my housemates and meet her in an hour.

Astonished and frustrated I hang up the phone. I hesitantly ask French Girl (who doesn’t like me, let alone understand me) if I can borrow shoes from her. She takes me up to her room where, thankfully, her American roommate is there on her bed. French Girl quickly passes me off onto American Girl (lolz), who saves my night by giving me a pair of lace Tom’s, a green over sized rain jacket, and her unlimited bus pass. SCORE.

So then, I go back to the kitchen to make the dinner out of the items that caused this whole mess in the first place. I can barely eat it though because I am too frustrated by the whole situation and nervous that I wont make it to city center in time to meet Italian Landlord Lady and then she will leave and I will never get my key. I hastily eat a few things, put things away, grab my 7% beer and take it with me out to the bus stop. I figured I would have to wait awhile for the bus and I wanted the beer… Surprisingly a bus came right away so I kind of had to chug the beer before getting on, but that made my ride seem to go by faster, so it’s all good.

ImageAfter meeting Italian Landlord Lady, climbing 5 flights of stairs, getting the keys, and booking it out of the office, it was surprisingly only 9:15!

Of course then I had to walk back several one way streets to a street going in the direction I needed, only to miss two buses I could’ve taken. I then had to wait for 20 more minutes as literally every single bus besides any of the 5 buses I could take, passed by me. Some of them I swear passed me twice, before one came that was headed to Phibsborough.

So two hours later I am finally back in my room. Enough adventures for the night. And by adventures I mean, pointless trips into town wearing minimal clothing in someone else’s shoes.

NOT TODAY COACH. NOT TODAY.

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