The Day Date
The fold up bike i bought online was as usual an impuslive buy which is usually a bad idea. It was a cunning plan to beat the off site car park snag. Maybe i should have measured the trunk of my car to see if it fit before i bought it!. It no sooner arrived than it was in the buyandsell adds within days. I quickly got a bit of interest in it from the Galway man. He could dispatch a couple of his Dublin goons over to check the bike out and if it was as described he'd 'take it off my hands'.
The goons turned up and were suitably impressed but all i was thinking about was the possibility of being late for my day date, a young girl from Holland. Yeah day date how'd you like that!. Nite dates are done to death. Whatever the masses go for then i say 'bet the other way'. Your probably wondering how a degenerate like me got hooked up with a stunning young Dutch aupair in the first place?. By dressing up as Austin Powers for a 70's theme night thats how....Yeah Baby!!. Sorry!. I didnt go the full hog in the party theme dress unlike everyone else it seemed. My effort for this party was wearing an Austin Powers t-shirt and carrying an inflatable guitar and i hoped this would be enough to keep the fashion cops off my back. Barely!.
I hastily made my introduction before anyone else moved in but that didnt stop one or two encroachers. Dont you hate encroachers when your trying your best to chat up a bird!?. Those guys were soon burnt off when the realised they couldnt verbally go toe to toe with me in the entertainment stakes and cleared off after a while. She told me she was into castles, countryside, growing her own vegetables etc, all that stuff girls think they'd like!. So she couldnt believe she just met someone with such likewise tastes!!!. Moi!. I was like Bill Murray in 'Groundhog Day' remembering what she liked and didnt like!. To keep in the theme of things i told her she had to see Newgrange and explained all the wonderful mystery that is Newgrange. She followed up on this later on so a Newgrange trip was casually organised for next weekend.
She looked stunning when i picked her up from the house where she aupaired. Like a tennis player on her day off. The crazy young lady of the house escorted her to the car at about in evening dress. It was midday. We set off for to the cozy confines of the burial chamber!.
On arrival we were bussed out to the site. Last time i was there you were just able to park right beside it and mosey on in. At the site we were coralled into a holding pen like cattle until our guide was ready for her next lot.
On the drive out to Newgrange i was peppered with a volley of questions like 'have you been here? have you been there? did you ever do this? did you ever do that?. Man i felt old. Older than the 10 year age gap between us. I felt like telling her i was an avid fan of 'Michael Palins' travel programmes if thats any good so i feel ive been around the world!. The worst thing was her including my name at the start and sometimes the end of every question she asked. I was damn near close to telling her to put up her hand next time she had a question!. She also made a bit of a slight at the speed i was driving. Little did she realise i had my foot bamn near the floor in this chariot!. She was hot though and i guessed no babe in the woods either!.
Our time arrived and we were lead to a large boulder type headstone situated just outside the main Newgrange tomb chamber. I had a bit of a Larry David type encounter.
Our guide was in her early thirties and loved her job. Her audience was a captive one and comprised of mainly european tourists, a couple of Americans and the odd Japanese. Our guide was a 'slow talker'. Mainly for the benifit of those whose first language wasnt english i'd like to believe but wasnt convinced of this. When i say slow i mean sloooooow and i believe she derived a bit of power by useing her slow talking method. She started off by asking had anyone in the group been to Newgrange before and my hand was the only one up. She probably asked this to see if there was any potential trouble makers who might challenge her or maybe she asked to see how much of a freeroll she would have. She said to me "Oh thats interesting, so when were you here last?" i replied "A good few years ago, i'd say i was about this high"(as i demonstrated by putting my hand up to my lower rib cage). I elaborated. "It was well before it was as organised as it is now"(i said with a smile). I was shocked when she showed umberage to what i said. No offense was caused. "Oh Newgrange was always 'ORGANISED" she said in a smacking of the wrists way. Pfffffh wtf i thought that should have been a compliment. I remember the time where you could quite easily bonk in and write on the walls if you liked. Now they had it watertight and shes taking offense. I replied in a way to downscale the whole thing "Im only sayin..." but by now i had drawn attention on myself and i thought i recieved a couple of frown type looks from the group.
Surprisingly this didnt break her stride and she went on to tell us that Newgrange wasnt the only burial chamber in the locality. There was 'Nowth' and 'Dowth' also. Nobody really cares much about Nouth and Dowth as theyre nothing more than little mounds that have no access. The money shot was inside the chamber so after a while longer of slooow talking on her say we made our way inside. The passage was tiny and you needed to stoop down on entry and all the way up the passage. We were last in so never were the words 'After You' said with greater sincerity!.
Our tour guide created the atmosphere in the dimly lit deathly still cold chamber and arranged for the lights to be dimmed to re create the solstace on how things go down once a year when the natural sunlight shines through a gap lighting up the entire chamber. I wondered how many people in recent times 'had it off' in the chamber!. I assumed the caretaker would have carte blanche to carry out such a task if so desired. Maybe our own tour guide got up to this with the light control man at the foot of the entrance. She kept making comments to the group about how cute he was. If she left that out it would have been a 5 star performance of a tour guide by her but she performed creditabllty none the less.
The tour was soon over so we broke away from the group and done a couple laps of the place. My date was amazed at the Irish language bringing my attention to signs in Irish. I treated her to 'An wil cead agum eg dull gu di an leatheras'(can i go to the toilet please) along with another couple of stock primary school sentences i dug up from the recess of my brain which seemed to impress her no end!.
We caught a newgrange operated rotation bus back to the reception centre where she asked me could we go to the gift store. She made a beeline for the jewelery section and the set up was that there were people actually making and finishing jewelery at the stalls. These people were mostly crafts people and stone masons etc but yet she asked me and not them what all the designs meant. So right in front of the open mouthed craftswomen behind her stall i explained to her "this particular broach is a celtic interlacing style broach and this over here is called a claddagh ring. You might see this same style in grave stones ect". I knew what the craftswoman was thinking that i was a complete muppet who was talking out of his arse but she couldnt outwardly display this because an imminent sale looked promising. We got to talking with this craftswoman after a while and she soon realised i wasnt the complete idiot i appeared when she told us a couple of stories about the Americans that she openly seemed to hate. One included a big American in the centre of the silent burial chamber get on his cell phone and exclaim in full voice "Im in the middle of this really neat cave honey!".
So off to Slane for a bite to eat and later on the way home she asks a question i had evaded so far "Aidan whats your favourite colour Aidan?". This time she backed me into a corner and i was forced to answer as civilly as i could "Listen Irish blokes dont have favourite colours, i dont know of one guy who has a favourite colour. The only guys in Ireland who might have a favourite colour are probably gay blokes. Why in Holland do guys have favourite colours?". She replied "yes they all have a favourite colour. My brother has a favourite colour. Come on you must have a favourite colour?". I felt like doing a Danny Glover 'Im to old for this shit' quote but thought better of it!.
Man The day date can be hard work!.
Postscript
Next day i drove to the beach to take a run. I stuck my mobile phone in the glove compartment and off i went. When i came back my passenger door had been jimmied open and i found the glove compartment wide open and my mobile phone gone. Oh shit i thought because i never switched it off so whoever took it had the run of it but worse still access to my phonebook. By the time i got home i had a message already from my brother to ring him at once. My worst fears were confirmed when he told me he recieved word from the crazy that the opair stayed with that the poor opair girl got dirty and vile text messages sent to her from my phone. She said the girl told her she had a lovely day yesterday and now this happens?. Soon after i cleared that up i learned that similar calls and messages had been given to every female name in my phone book including my mother and sister so there was loads more explaining to be done!.
A week or so later i emailed the Galway man to see why interest wained on the fold up bike. He wrote back saying he rang my mobile phone to be greeted buy an extremely rude man who verbally abused him no end!. Oh ffs the time he rings happens to be the time the scumbag was in possession of the phone!. Murphys law!. I explained the situation and the sale was made the next day.
Never leave your mobile in your car!
The fold up bike i bought online was as usual an impuslive buy which is usually a bad idea. It was a cunning plan to beat the off site car park snag. Maybe i should have measured the trunk of my car to see if it fit before i bought it!. It no sooner arrived than it was in the buyandsell adds within days. I quickly got a bit of interest in it from the Galway man. He could dispatch a couple of his Dublin goons over to check the bike out and if it was as described he'd 'take it off my hands'.
The goons turned up and were suitably impressed but all i was thinking about was the possibility of being late for my day date, a young girl from Holland. Yeah day date how'd you like that!. Nite dates are done to death. Whatever the masses go for then i say 'bet the other way'. Your probably wondering how a degenerate like me got hooked up with a stunning young Dutch aupair in the first place?. By dressing up as Austin Powers for a 70's theme night thats how....Yeah Baby!!. Sorry!. I didnt go the full hog in the party theme dress unlike everyone else it seemed. My effort for this party was wearing an Austin Powers t-shirt and carrying an inflatable guitar and i hoped this would be enough to keep the fashion cops off my back. Barely!.
I hastily made my introduction before anyone else moved in but that didnt stop one or two encroachers. Dont you hate encroachers when your trying your best to chat up a bird!?. Those guys were soon burnt off when the realised they couldnt verbally go toe to toe with me in the entertainment stakes and cleared off after a while. She told me she was into castles, countryside, growing her own vegetables etc, all that stuff girls think they'd like!. So she couldnt believe she just met someone with such likewise tastes!!!. Moi!. I was like Bill Murray in 'Groundhog Day' remembering what she liked and didnt like!. To keep in the theme of things i told her she had to see Newgrange and explained all the wonderful mystery that is Newgrange. She followed up on this later on so a Newgrange trip was casually organised for next weekend.
She looked stunning when i picked her up from the house where she aupaired. Like a tennis player on her day off. The crazy young lady of the house escorted her to the car at about in evening dress. It was midday. We set off for to the cozy confines of the burial chamber!.
On arrival we were bussed out to the site. Last time i was there you were just able to park right beside it and mosey on in. At the site we were coralled into a holding pen like cattle until our guide was ready for her next lot.
On the drive out to Newgrange i was peppered with a volley of questions like 'have you been here? have you been there? did you ever do this? did you ever do that?. Man i felt old. Older than the 10 year age gap between us. I felt like telling her i was an avid fan of 'Michael Palins' travel programmes if thats any good so i feel ive been around the world!. The worst thing was her including my name at the start and sometimes the end of every question she asked. I was damn near close to telling her to put up her hand next time she had a question!. She also made a bit of a slight at the speed i was driving. Little did she realise i had my foot bamn near the floor in this chariot!. She was hot though and i guessed no babe in the woods either!.
Our time arrived and we were lead to a large boulder type headstone situated just outside the main Newgrange tomb chamber. I had a bit of a Larry David type encounter.
Our guide was in her early thirties and loved her job. Her audience was a captive one and comprised of mainly european tourists, a couple of Americans and the odd Japanese. Our guide was a 'slow talker'. Mainly for the benifit of those whose first language wasnt english i'd like to believe but wasnt convinced of this. When i say slow i mean sloooooow and i believe she derived a bit of power by useing her slow talking method. She started off by asking had anyone in the group been to Newgrange before and my hand was the only one up. She probably asked this to see if there was any potential trouble makers who might challenge her or maybe she asked to see how much of a freeroll she would have. She said to me "Oh thats interesting, so when were you here last?" i replied "A good few years ago, i'd say i was about this high"(as i demonstrated by putting my hand up to my lower rib cage). I elaborated. "It was well before it was as organised as it is now"(i said with a smile). I was shocked when she showed umberage to what i said. No offense was caused. "Oh Newgrange was always 'ORGANISED" she said in a smacking of the wrists way. Pfffffh wtf i thought that should have been a compliment. I remember the time where you could quite easily bonk in and write on the walls if you liked. Now they had it watertight and shes taking offense. I replied in a way to downscale the whole thing "Im only sayin..." but by now i had drawn attention on myself and i thought i recieved a couple of frown type looks from the group.
Surprisingly this didnt break her stride and she went on to tell us that Newgrange wasnt the only burial chamber in the locality. There was 'Nowth' and 'Dowth' also. Nobody really cares much about Nouth and Dowth as theyre nothing more than little mounds that have no access. The money shot was inside the chamber so after a while longer of slooow talking on her say we made our way inside. The passage was tiny and you needed to stoop down on entry and all the way up the passage. We were last in so never were the words 'After You' said with greater sincerity!.
Our tour guide created the atmosphere in the dimly lit deathly still cold chamber and arranged for the lights to be dimmed to re create the solstace on how things go down once a year when the natural sunlight shines through a gap lighting up the entire chamber. I wondered how many people in recent times 'had it off' in the chamber!. I assumed the caretaker would have carte blanche to carry out such a task if so desired. Maybe our own tour guide got up to this with the light control man at the foot of the entrance. She kept making comments to the group about how cute he was. If she left that out it would have been a 5 star performance of a tour guide by her but she performed creditabllty none the less.
The tour was soon over so we broke away from the group and done a couple laps of the place. My date was amazed at the Irish language bringing my attention to signs in Irish. I treated her to 'An wil cead agum eg dull gu di an leatheras'(can i go to the toilet please) along with another couple of stock primary school sentences i dug up from the recess of my brain which seemed to impress her no end!.
We caught a newgrange operated rotation bus back to the reception centre where she asked me could we go to the gift store. She made a beeline for the jewelery section and the set up was that there were people actually making and finishing jewelery at the stalls. These people were mostly crafts people and stone masons etc but yet she asked me and not them what all the designs meant. So right in front of the open mouthed craftswomen behind her stall i explained to her "this particular broach is a celtic interlacing style broach and this over here is called a claddagh ring. You might see this same style in grave stones ect". I knew what the craftswoman was thinking that i was a complete muppet who was talking out of his arse but she couldnt outwardly display this because an imminent sale looked promising. We got to talking with this craftswoman after a while and she soon realised i wasnt the complete idiot i appeared when she told us a couple of stories about the Americans that she openly seemed to hate. One included a big American in the centre of the silent burial chamber get on his cell phone and exclaim in full voice "Im in the middle of this really neat cave honey!".
So off to Slane for a bite to eat and later on the way home she asks a question i had evaded so far "Aidan whats your favourite colour Aidan?". This time she backed me into a corner and i was forced to answer as civilly as i could "Listen Irish blokes dont have favourite colours, i dont know of one guy who has a favourite colour. The only guys in Ireland who might have a favourite colour are probably gay blokes. Why in Holland do guys have favourite colours?". She replied "yes they all have a favourite colour. My brother has a favourite colour. Come on you must have a favourite colour?". I felt like doing a Danny Glover 'Im to old for this shit' quote but thought better of it!.
Man The day date can be hard work!.
Postscript
Next day i drove to the beach to take a run. I stuck my mobile phone in the glove compartment and off i went. When i came back my passenger door had been jimmied open and i found the glove compartment wide open and my mobile phone gone. Oh shit i thought because i never switched it off so whoever took it had the run of it but worse still access to my phonebook. By the time i got home i had a message already from my brother to ring him at once. My worst fears were confirmed when he told me he recieved word from the crazy that the opair stayed with that the poor opair girl got dirty and vile text messages sent to her from my phone. She said the girl told her she had a lovely day yesterday and now this happens?. Soon after i cleared that up i learned that similar calls and messages had been given to every female name in my phone book including my mother and sister so there was loads more explaining to be done!.
A week or so later i emailed the Galway man to see why interest wained on the fold up bike. He wrote back saying he rang my mobile phone to be greeted buy an extremely rude man who verbally abused him no end!. Oh ffs the time he rings happens to be the time the scumbag was in possession of the phone!. Murphys law!. I explained the situation and the sale was made the next day.
Never leave your mobile in your car!
posted by Rounders123 at Thursday, April 13, 2006
4 Comments:
Nice story Aidan. When she asked for your favourite colour you should have re-raised her and asked what her favourite food was!
Unlucky with the phone, I always leave mine in the car, but put it on silent for this very reason! Losing your phone is bad enough, but when some little scumbag goes and starts sending messages off it...
Luckily the last time I lost my phone it was down a drain in Prague, so no chance of anyone making dondgy calls off it!
Cheers lads.
Yeah coincidnce or what olly!. Yes the day date going to a specific place is a lot less like an interview!. I honed my day day date over the years with mixed results!.
Actually i had a very similar happening that you had i also once got into trouble when i was getting on better with a girl who was brought along to the date(for support but under the guise of 'she's just boken up and i need to get her out!') than the date herself!.
Yeah Rory the swine actually rang the girl and my sister a few times. My sister laughed it off but the Dutch girl was devestated. I got the phone disconnected within 1/2 hr but the damage was done.
Great story! I'm still laughing! I have a tendency to swipe my mates' phones and text weird (but not obscene! I'm too classy for that type of behaviour) stuff to mutual friends. G'wan ya good thing and charm that hot European!
Classic. Great story. My mate (or so I thought) took my phone the morning after a wedding and texted four women on it asking if they wanted a shag. needless to say the first one was a girl I had broken up with only days earlier. I can laugh now but i got some abuse for it.
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