Parnell Street, the Saturday evening before last. I gladly sidle into a loading-bay spot outside a takeaway on the street's west side. The mission: a quick bite to eat, then the securing of wine and other goodies for a dash to Megan's friend Ann Marie's house.
Shortly thereafter, the food had been enjoyed and the supplies duly collected from the shiny new Tesco (which by the way regrettably falls somewhat short of my south Dublin tastes as regards the selection of wine and cheese!).
Back we go out on the street to jump into the car. Busy talking, we almost walk by a fantastically streetwise aqua-coloured car. I make my usual gentlemanly gesture of unlocking and opening the passenger door, absent-mindedly fiddling the key left and right without noticing that the door is unlocked. (Megan never forgets to lock it on her way out.)
Megan opens my door from the inside, and we get ready to set off. I put the key in the ignition while Megan settles the shopping on the passenger seat floor. I notice a Dublin city street guide on top of the glove department, and wonder if Megan got it for her upcoming house hunt.
I turn to put on my seatbelt and notice that it has got some kind of padding sleeve on it. 'What the hell is this,' I think aloud as myself and Megan turn to each other and then toward a gleaming silver stereo adorned with a CD deck and several rows of useful buttons. My super-basic radio has three presets, buttons for tuning, volume and power and a wonky tape deck. We were in the wrong car.
Sheepishly dashing to the other 00-D green Ford Ka at the next shopfront loading bay on the street, we wonder how we made our mistake. In our defence, save for a pair of very discreetly positioned 'L' plates and a different reg number, the car had been identical from the outside. The funniest part was realising that Megan had clicked the lock on the other Ka out of habit on her way out, while I just bailed in a panic, leaving the driver's side unlocked. Perhaps the person thought on their way back to their car that they had left the passenger door unlocked, only to find it was locked and the driver's door was open! Enough to drive anyone mad.
The other funny thing is there's another aqua-coloured Ka, 01-D this time, belonging to a guy I've never met who works in Radio. I did draw level with him at the gate once, and he was wondering why I was smiling at him until I pulled away and saw his surprised expression in my rear view mirror as he realised that we were driving the exact same car! Anyhow his is parked in RTÉ every single day and I've never mistaken it for my own. Though I have once been accused by a colleague of going out drinking on a Thursday night and leaving my (i.e. his) car at work as careless evidence of same!
Shortly thereafter, the food had been enjoyed and the supplies duly collected from the shiny new Tesco (which by the way regrettably falls somewhat short of my south Dublin tastes as regards the selection of wine and cheese!).
Back we go out on the street to jump into the car. Busy talking, we almost walk by a fantastically streetwise aqua-coloured car. I make my usual gentlemanly gesture of unlocking and opening the passenger door, absent-mindedly fiddling the key left and right without noticing that the door is unlocked. (Megan never forgets to lock it on her way out.)
Megan opens my door from the inside, and we get ready to set off. I put the key in the ignition while Megan settles the shopping on the passenger seat floor. I notice a Dublin city street guide on top of the glove department, and wonder if Megan got it for her upcoming house hunt.
I turn to put on my seatbelt and notice that it has got some kind of padding sleeve on it. 'What the hell is this,' I think aloud as myself and Megan turn to each other and then toward a gleaming silver stereo adorned with a CD deck and several rows of useful buttons. My super-basic radio has three presets, buttons for tuning, volume and power and a wonky tape deck. We were in the wrong car.
Sheepishly dashing to the other 00-D green Ford Ka at the next shopfront loading bay on the street, we wonder how we made our mistake. In our defence, save for a pair of very discreetly positioned 'L' plates and a different reg number, the car had been identical from the outside. The funniest part was realising that Megan had clicked the lock on the other Ka out of habit on her way out, while I just bailed in a panic, leaving the driver's side unlocked. Perhaps the person thought on their way back to their car that they had left the passenger door unlocked, only to find it was locked and the driver's door was open! Enough to drive anyone mad.
The other funny thing is there's another aqua-coloured Ka, 01-D this time, belonging to a guy I've never met who works in Radio. I did draw level with him at the gate once, and he was wondering why I was smiling at him until I pulled away and saw his surprised expression in my rear view mirror as he realised that we were driving the exact same car! Anyhow his is parked in RTÉ every single day and I've never mistaken it for my own. Though I have once been accused by a colleague of going out drinking on a Thursday night and leaving my (i.e. his) car at work as careless evidence of same!
