Since I grew up in a town where you hop in the car to drive 2 blocks to a friend’s house, “public transportation” has always had a negative connotation to it (subways and trains are different for some reason, like they’re futuristic or something.) I hate to sound like a brat, but the smelly crowd jerking left and right on sharp turns will just take some warming up to. But when cabs were beginning to thin my wallet and Google Maps informed me my commute to work was the direct opposite of town, it was time to suck it up learn to commute like a Dubliner.
I bought my student pass, checked out the routes, and updated my ipod to really fit in with all the business-casual clad people with headphones walking around city center. On Monday I walked to the bus stop listening to “How Bout You?” by Yonder Mountain String Band, and I quickly realized why commuters invest in Apple products. It was like walking around in your own movie with theme songs playing around you. Music can set the tone for your mood, so I opted for up-beat songs and felt confident, like the first day of work was gonna be a good one. That is, until I was scrolling through my Third Eye Blind tracks and completely lost in my make-belief movie world of “Macy Takes the Bus to Work in Dublin!” and missed the 16 bus.
Fantastic – nothing like being late on the first day. Anyone with a type A personality or over-achieving tendencies probably would’ve allowed themselves extra time in case they found themselves in this situation. Well I’m neither of those, but I probably could’ve bet a week’s budget of Euros that I would get lost of miss the bus. The iPod was a good idea for a hot minute and maybe for someone else less ADD than I, so I took out the headphones and focused on the route map to come up with a new plan. After running like a fool from the last stop I arrived only 12 minutes late, with 2 new blisters, out of breath, and in desperate need for a ponytail holder. Good thing the Irish are so friendly and laid back and took into account I was just another dumb American who can’t figure out a bus map.
Day 2 got off to a good start as Becca and I headed to the bus stop together, 15 minutes early to catch a faster bus into town. We leisurely walked towards our next stop before going our separate ways, and I decided I had enough time to get a cup of coffee. When I got on the Dart train I noticed there were WAY more people on this train than the one that comes only 10 minutes later that I took yesterday. I also noticed the digital screen displayed names that didn’t seem familiar. I remembered a girl telling me that every train goes to Grand Canal Dock so I sat tight, thinking I’d recognize it when I saw it. The second didn’t look too familiar, but looking back now that’s probably because of the mass amount of people around now that weren’t there the day before. So I got off at third, and again found myself wondering around an unfamiliar area fighting the panic attack that was about to evolve. Why the hell was I not made with that GPS gene some people tend to have? I found a girl who looked like she was on her stomping grounds and asked her directions to Malting Tower. For the second day, I was late to work because of my retarded-ness.
I’m not gonna go into great detail about failed attempt at public transportation round 3 because I honestly think I knew were I was going this time. My directional skills were improving, but my common sense was obviously lacking. Long story short, we met up with Ben and his friend from work at Dicey’s on Tuesday night after work. They say you can’t beat their 2 euro pint special on Tuesday nights, and its true – Dicey’s won. 7:15 alarm turned to 7:55 and I ran out the door to meet Becca downstairs without putting any thought into what I grabbed with me. I forgot my bus pass and wallet so Becca passed back her bus card and gave me change for the Dart, and I could meet Ann during lunch to get my purse so I could ride the bus back. Google map gave me some bad news: the walk to Ann’s office was long enough for an Olympic relay (no wonder everyone rides the damn bus). I had a total of 85 cents leaving work that day. I hailed a cab, had the most pleasant conversation with a cab driver yet (who also gave me a bootleg version DVD of The Sourcecode), and Ann brought my wallet down when I arrived back at the apartment to pay him.
I’m at work right now and it’s day 4. I got on the right bus at the right time, and walked in the door at 8:59 this morning. In America we tend to believe the third try is the charm, but in Ireland clovers prove that luck is in the number 4.
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