When All Else Fails…

‘She that must always be obeyed’ and I share a healthy loathing of throwing original documents in the post… registered of not! Legacy of our mistrust of the SA system… so, when Granddad needed his passport renewed it fell on me to dash-off to the British Embassy in Dublin.

For those who know… the term dash-off in Dublin is a euphemism for traveling very, very slowly! Frustrating… trips along the Grand Canal can be rather mind numbing… if you let them to be… or if you let it get to you. I have developed my own strategy for dealing with the tedium of moving 2 miles in half an hour! Mr Dylan supplying the background music… for half the neighbourhood.

People watching is vitally important… the good lady calls it bird watching… I wonder why? She may have a valid point… just maybe. If you asked me what the large fellow riding the nondescript grey bicycle was wearing I most probably won’t be able to tell you… even 30 seconds after he went by…

On the other hand… the pretty red-head wearing tights would definitely get a second look… so would the blond… and the brunette… and the brown-haired stunner… and the one with pink hair… or purple… cerise… or… or… Some may even get a third or fourth glance… I kid you not!

Part 3 of the sanity strategy is to have the camera at the ready… just in case a picture crops up… birds, no… the feathered type… trees and buildings. The occasional Ferrari… Maserati, Lamborghini… that sort of thing.

I’m now really staying… the moral of the story… don’t expect to get to any destination in Dublin on time or in good humour. I found parking… about a mile from the place and got through security with 35 minutes to spare! Guess what… I walked straight into the back of a 7 strong queue…

Here’s another lesson in life… don’t get agitated… you have to do what you have to do… without getting the stress levels too high. Back to people watching… men… one lady with a baby… the subliminal mind seems to skip past ladies with babies… smells of dirty nappies, baby puke… noise… no don’t bother with ladies with babies.

The mind drifts… the anarchist in me looks at the security cameras… where would I place the bomb if I was a fundamentalist whatever? That little ledge… no, the camera is pointed in that direction… Aaaah-ha, super glue… stick it to the back of the explosive filled camera in my pocket… attach to the underside of the table… one easy movement… hope the timer is set correctly… I’m not the suicide type…

I chastise myself… how could I be contemplating this line of action… the story-teller in me… the security expert in me… the idea of a new plot developing… the spy versus spy syndrome.

Why is the line of people not moving? The thought dawns slowly… my mind games distracting from the reality of the situation. The fellow’s voice is now getting slightly louder… as if we couldn’t already hear everything! No… he forgot to bring that form… yes, he reported the loss to the Spanish police… no, he has supplied the Spanish address because he lives there 6 months of the year… no, he doesn’t have anything with him to prove his Irish address… surely that’s OK?

No… says the lady… no, she repeats… firmly.

The rest of the queue’s occupants start fidgeting… the ceiling becomes a thing of beauty… the mutterings almost audible… you can see the lips twitch… the curses forming… that was a definite ‘f” … ‘u’… dirty mouthed fellow… number 4 in the queue!

I glance at the watch… flip… if the next fellow obstructs progress for half as long… clampers!! Imagine… forking out ninety bucks to get that horrid yellow thing off the car’s wheel just because this old fool didn’t read the rules!!

The good old adage springs to mind…

…when all else fails… read the instructions!! 

The lady manning the counter remains friendly. I would have told the dumb, ignorant chancer to take himself and his bad attitude well away by now… no, the lady calmly carries out her duty… more glancing at the ceiling… I bet mental bomb treats are now being aimed at the old codger!! After 15 good minutes he eventually gets the picture… if you don’t have the correct documentation you won’t get a new passport!! Simple…

Idiot probably got sozzled in some Spanish bar and forgot to rescue his little pink book from the opportunists who are always on the make… and lookout for stupid folk that don’t look after their possessions! Stolen passports equal money! Idiot?

The next gent in the line gets to the counter… if he takes ten minutes… I calculate… then the next fellow… and the next… no, I’ll get clamped! Why, you may wonder, did I not put more money in the meter… because any sane person would have thought 30 minutes after closing time would suffice!!

Then I hear the polite voice… ‘Yes sir… how my I help?’ Rapid movement! Down to 5 minutes per person. I relax… maybe I won’t get clamped… oh, I forget to mention… you cannot simply slip out and feed the meter… you won’t be allowed back in when the desk is officially closed!

I hear the lady explain to the next fellow that she is only helping out today… always busy after a bank holiday Monday… her friendliness shines through… her professional manner does not hide the fact that she is just a good-natured person shoved into a less than pleasant situation… yet she smiles and makes small talk with each of the better prepared gents now being served.

My mind drifts… better days… that little cottage in Dalkey… not too far from here… man, is that some way of getting to forget all the stress in life!! Imagine living there… right next to the common… the place of the goats… overlooking the island! What bliss… what a life!! Dream on… the agent’s advertised list price is only 50 000 short of three million… euro… that is!!

The ‘Cottage’… what a view… what a life… what a dream! 😉

‘Yes sir… how may I help?’ The dream is shattered… I’m next… The pleasant lady takes my paperwork and within minutes I’m  out of the door… heading for the un-clamped car. I make it back to the parking spot with a good few minutes to spare.

Thanks to the good lady at the embassy… efficiency… but mostly friendly efficiency!!

To the pompous old idiot that arrives expecting service without the correct paperwork…

When all else fails… read the effing instructions!!

🙂 😉

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About aj vosse

Love life, live love... share life... share love!
This entry was posted in Dublin & Leinster Architecture & Other Interesting Sights and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

6 Responses to When All Else Fails…

  1. Sallyann says:

    I followed the “Year ago” link here, I see you finally set it up. 🙂
    Hubby goes in for your type of bird watching too, there’s no harm in reading the menu even if you are on a diet. Although I do draw the line at chatting up the barmaid while I’m stood next to him at the bar. 🙂

    Like

  2. Witch Twin says:

    I enjoyed reading this! Closet bomber are you? lol
    Have an awesome day.

    Like

    • aj vosse says:

      No… just a suspicious Saffer!! I’m always looking at what the ‘enemy’ would do… as I say… just a suspicious Saffer… with military experience… always seeing an enemy behind every bush… haha… you have a great day too… 😉
      PS… the invite stands for you as well… room with a view… only thing, you may have to do the braai’ing… 🙂

      Like

  3. Firefly says:

    I like your type of bird watching… and I can also do with that place on the cliff

    Like

    • aj vosse says:

      Firefly… that photo is just for you! I thought you would appreciate the view… Imagine… when I live there… it’s a 6 bedroom place… I’ll make sure you get a sea view when you and the family visit… the patio is a fantastic place… all the braai’s there will be special… 😉

      Like

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