Upon arrival to the Shannon Airport in Ireland, my bodyguard and I made our way to the Europcar counter to pick up the automatic I reserved through Expedia.com; I was excited that they quoted me a mere $180 USD for two weeks. When the old man sitting motioned me to step up to the rental counter, I handed him our reference number. He then proceeded to tell me he had no automatics.I don't drive manual. It wouldn't seem much sense in ever having an manual with the stop-and-go traffic I deal with on a daily basis. Therefore, I never took the time to learn how to drive stick. Trying to drive manual while also trying to remember to stay on the correct side of the road would be nearly impossible, if not tragic.
The old man, being very unhelpful in trying to accommodate us, looks at my bodyguard and says "Can ye' not drive manual?"
"Yeah, you candyass. Can't you drive manual?" I ask. The Irishman looks at me, unsettled. My New York attitude was emerging, and I couldn't contain it. I thanked him for his lack of help on my first day in his country and went to the Budget counter.
Budget raped me. Five hundred Euros for two weeks. But it was better than taking the bus.
*Picture: Inis Mor, Aran Islands
5 comments:
Beautiful country.
Did you pick up the accent?
Wombat
I concur; I got some really amazing photos. In addition to the myriad of talents I possess, I fancy myself an amateur photographer. I can't wait to enlarge some of the shots and hang them in my apt.
I picked up the accent quite quickly, actually. Though when I joke about it I sound more like a Scot. I like rolling my r's.
I'm finding it difficult not to say feckin'.
Feckin' blogger. Feckin' eejit. Get me a feckin' drink will ya?
Wombat
Feckin' tourist. Get it y'feckin' self.
I met a Kiwi at the place I stayed on Inis Mor. I thought he was Australian. He thought I was Canadian, though I forgot to ask why. He said "fookin'".
It is his sole purpose in life to flirt with women, I think.
What's the point of life if not to flirt with the feckin' babes, eh?
Wombat
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