I am the last person who has should take a swipe at Americans. They put a man on the Moon, invented the Internet, and birthed Mariah. But at the same time I admit that there is an unspoken agreement for them to hand in their brains at the immigration desk when they land at Shannon.
Picture this scene if you will. There are three ATMs in a row at the Ulster Bank in Eyre Square. The middle one is out of order. Both of flanking two are in use and I’m at the head of the queue. A brusque American – clearly impatient at waiting – brushes past me, ignores the big “OUT OF ORDER” sign, and tries to insert his card.
Confused, he turns to me:
“Hey, it’s not working?”
“…do you think I was queueing for the good of my health?”
He get a little embarrassed and skulks off. Two more Americans arrive. One, a little old lady with card in hand, squints at the OUT OF ORDER machine.
“Hey son, does that work?”
I hate tourists.
My sister, my mum and and myself played at tourist yesterday. We went down in my sister’s car to Coole Park for a few hours, with a stop in Clarenbridge on the way home for dinner. My family get really mad at me if pull out my camera when they are eating, which makes for fantastic photographs.
Coole Park was and is absolutely magnificent. I’m really happy that the rain held off while we were there.