Slide

I am having a bad week. There. I’ve said it. I really wanted this to be a place of positivity and good vibes. The amount of bitching and whining that goes on the internet is a shame. Sadly today, I’m going to keep with the trend.

So far in the last ten days, I have crashed my car, dealt with some of the most unhelpful people in the world, some of the most automated people in the world, forgot my keys, forgot my wallet, realised that while my lifestyle is great, having no money has its drawbacks when it comes to paying bills, fallen down the stairs and generally just been faced with the kind of challenges and test to make the old testament vengeful Trial of Job, God look like Pat Sharp in Fun House.

All this and the realisation that I am starting to look like some kind of homeless person.

The motor accident. Firstly, the most important thing. thankfully no one was seriously hurt. I was giving a friend a lift home and ended up going into the back of another car. Its in the hands of the Insurance company. I probably shouldn’t talk too much about the accident itself in case I violate some clause or other.

The ramifications of the accident. As I said thankfully no one was badly injured and that’s the most important thing. Doreen, however is probably heading on her last journey. The people in the insurance don’t seem to any value on sentiment (heartless swines) and will probably decide that the cost of repairing her is more than her actual value and will consign my good friend to the scrap yard. This hurts deeply but at the end of the day if its Doreen is the only casualty of this mishap I cannot be too ungrateful.

While the injuries weren’t serious there were obviously some bumps and bruises. The lady whose car I hit as been sore and stiff since and I wish her a speedy recovery. My friend had some nice bruises on her hip and shoulders and an all round soreness. She was very good about it all and I need to thank her for not holding it against me.

I had a couple of bumps and cuts. The worst was the effects of the airbag. I’m not sure if it was burns or a reaction to the powder that they case that stuff in. Either way, parts of my face were beautifully pink and blotchy. Kind of like the Singing Detective with less dancing nurses.

And by the way if you’ve never been around an activated airbag its disgusting. It smells like something with really wet hair crawled inside something smelly, died and then set itself on fire.

The guards were very helpful and understanding. I didn’t have my licence and Insurance Certificate so I had to present these to my local station within 10 days. Now I’ve never really had any dealings with our police force so I was suitably intimidated and petrified. I brought what I thought was the requisite paper work to the Sundrive Station as soon as I got home.

However, it appears what I thought was my Insurance Certificate was not. It was in fact my policy schedule. Ah!

Here’s the thing. You remember that super, funny, little piece about how great it is to de clutter and free your life of unnecessary crap that you don’t need. Well one part of that was to go through all my paper work and get rid of any old stuff that was basically duplicating other stuff…

I think you know where I’m going with this.

So I rang my insurance company. You know the procedure

Press 1 for cars. Press 2 for vans. Press 334 for Intergalactic/Time Vehicles.

Eventually I got through to a voice and explained to him what had happened. How I had had an accident and needed a copy of my Insurance Certificate.

“Ok Mr. Holohan, that’s no problem at all, I’m just going to put you through to our renewals department” said R2D2

I wasn’t really sure why I was being put through to renewals but ok. I then spoke to CP30. I explained to him what had happened. He seemed a little confused.

“I see your policy is up for Renewal Mr. Holohan. Would you like to that now.?”

“Emmm. No. See I don’t actually have a car at the moment that I need to insure.”

I then explained again what I needed. My protocol droid friend was really confused now. I shouldn’t have been put through to him at all. Customer service should be dealing with me. He was going to transfer me back to them, but to ensure I didn’t have to go through all this again he would leave a very detailed note on my a/c. So off I went again.

“Hello T-800 speaking, how can I help you Mr Holohan. Ah I see your policy is almost due for renewal I’ll just transfer you to our Renewals Department”

No!!!! Stop. I had to raise my voice and get this Austrian accented robot to listen. I told him there should be a note explaining what I needed. There wasn’t.

I explained, again, what had happened and what I needed. I told him that I needed to do what ever is normally done when people lose their insurance certificates. T-800 then put me on hold and went to speak to his supervisor. Eventually he came back and told me they could re issue my certificate but it would cost me 20 Euro.

Fine. I just wanted to get it sorted and over and done with. He called out my details and asked me to confirm my address. When I gave a different address to the one he had on the system T-800 self destructed.

I then spoke to Bender. I explained to Bender that I had moved house since I took out the insurance and I had informed the brokers of this and that should it not be them that informs the insurance company. Bender was sure it was just a clerical mix up and it wouldn’t be a problem sending the cert to my address, however….

I did not like the sound of that however. Apparently because I had moved address into a new post code I could be liable for a premium on my insurance. How could this be right. Padraig Harrington could hit a ball from my old house to my new one. I really couldn’t take much more of this. I couldn’t deal with lowly androids anymore. I needed to speak to the Big Cheese. I needed to speak to the supervisor.

“Get me Optimus Prime” I demanded.

Optimus I have to say was very good. He listened to me whinge and gripe. He gave the positive listening noises like they are trained. He apologised for any inconvenience. He accepted that I had a point but of course insisted that the company is perfectly within its rights to apply these charges. However as I’ve had a poor customer experience he would resolve it with out charge.

You have got to admire quality programming like that.

And that my friends, was just the beginning of what has been one of the shittiest, most stressful 10 day periods of my life. I could tell you about the unhappy little trolls that live behind the glass in the social welfare office. Or how utility companies have decided that I should give them money first so that they can then charge me for their service.

Its just too bleak. And like I said I want this to be a place of good feeling and high 5’s. So I need to end on a positive note.

I have been reading a book called “The To Do List” by Mike Gayle. It is a very funny story of the authors attempt to do his Ultimate To Do List. He gives himself a year to do all the things he feels he needs to get done just so as he can be a proper grown up. At first I thought it was just a self help book cynically disguised as a slice of life to trick me into reading it. Now I don’t mind if it is (I don’t think it is), I just really enjoyed reading it.

I looked up the author and judging by his website he seems pretty cool. He gives tips for wannabe writers and generally just seems like a nice bloke. And his brother used to read the news on The Big Breakfast… which is pretty cool in my book.

So in honour of The To Do List and to get my good vibrations back on track I’ve done my own little to do list for the week.

It goes

• Get a haircut
• Apply for Tax Credit/Claim back Tax
• Write Short Story about a guy trying to write a Romance Novel
• Email Mike Gayle and tell him I enjoyed his book
• Try and get him to read my blog
• Contact various financial institutions about stuff I’ve been putting off
• Do some more exercise.
• Enter different short story into a competition.

So check back next week and see how I went with that. And I promise next week my hippy manifesto of good times and happy go lucky tales will be back in full effect. Hopefully.

Headlights

"So you're leaving the country and you can't give me a lift to work anymore? You're actually going to let me get two buses every day while you go and live in some island paradise, walking around in your bikini, drinking mojitos and eyeing up tanned muscleheads? You Selfish Bitch"


This is not an actual conversation that I had. It could have been if I weren't so socially intuitive. I didn't feel it was the right place to express those feelings.


So here we are in the second month of 2010. February marks the one year anniversary of an occasion of mixed emotions for me. For it was this time last year that I was abandoned (that 'might' be a bit harsh) by a loved one. But I did get a car.


My best friend Lisa had just gotten a new job in the Cayman Islands and would be leaving the country. I was conflicted. I was disappointed to be losing my drinking buddy and confidante. I was excited for her wonderful opportunity. I was kinda wondering would she sleep with me before she left...youknowwhatimsayin... (I should point out that she didn't, she wouldn't, I never suggested it out of respect for our friendship and she is probably going to punch me for writing it down. ) And I was worried how the hell I was going to get to work every morning.


On top of being my go to guy (girl) for good times and laughter, for the past two years, more or less every day, Lisa had been giving me a lift to and from work. Unless she had a meeting or I was too hungover to get up on time, my good buddy Lisa B. drove me to work in the mornings and most days waited an extra 30 mins to give me a lift home. Now she was leaving? That was just...downright...inconvienent.

I don't know if any of you take Dublin Bus these days. It smells. Its dirty. Its full of people hacking and spluttering strains of germs that could lead to the type of global hysteria that you see nowadays when Miss Piggy gets the sniffles.

The latest phenomenon to hit Dublin Bus is two fold. Both of which lead to your aural senses being attacked by bad music being played on poor equipment. You either have the seemingly Eastern European with the incredibly loud, hardcore/electro/techno/noize (thats with a 'z' to emphasis its shitness) played through cheap earphones which offer no protection to passers by. Or you have the school girl in her fake Ugg boots minus the pyjamas this time, it is a school day, and Le Coq Sportif school bag, playing Rhinanna or Akon on their phone. Over and over and over again.

Either way, it's rubbish music, with rubbish speakers, making a rubbish noise, listened to by rubbish people on a rubbish bus.

So what i'm trying to say is, I don't like public transport. And as someone who lived in Harolds Cross and worked out in Citywest this was going to provide a problem. Someone who at 32 years of age had still not bothered to learn to drive.

Its not that i never bothered. I had tried before. But i just didn't follow through. And my confidence in my ability to master an automobile was fairly low. I could drive a car. I just couldn't stop, turn, park or reverse it. But when I weighed up the options there was only on thing for it.

The next time I went to visit my soon to be departing buddy, I presented her with my idea almost as soon as she opened the door. "Lisa", i said as i unveiled my brilliant concept. " I want to buy Doreen"




This is Doreen. She's 12 years old. She's from Waterford. She's smart, reliable, responsive and despite a bit of a rough start she generally treats me well. Which is more than can be said for most of the women in my life.

For the previous seven or eight years she had belonged to Lisa. First as a little run around in Tramore Co. Waterford before laterly being part of Lisa's move to the 'big' city for her new job and career in Account Management and Sales Marketing.

So from a Bumpkin-Mobile to a Sex and the City style runaround (Yes, I know those women didn't drive, but i'm going for a certain imagery people) Doreen had been good to Lisa and Lisa was good to Doreen. She christened her Doreen because she was green. And well, Doreen rhymes with green. It makes sense if you know Lisa.

However, as Lisa prepared to leave the Emerald Isle (not the Doreen Isle, you'll notice), she was faced with the harsh reality of leaving the most loyal dependable friend that she is ever had (not to mention me) behind.

She also needed cash. And fast. She needed as much start up capitol as she could lay her hands on before starting her new life in Grand Cayman, and while Doreen had been a companion, now she was an asset that needed liquidating.

So as she was starting to consider placing an ad in the Buy and Sell, and all the hassle that that entailed my idea to buy Doreen saved her a lot of hassle. The benefits for her in my purchasing were

She knew where i lived if there was any issue with payment.
I was willing to wait until she was actually leaving so she had a car up until her last day in Dublin
I was unlikely to sue my good friend if I wasn't happy with my purchase
I would continue to call her Doreen

The pluses for me taking it off her hands were

I knew the car. I knew she was generally reliable
I needed a car that i could learn to drive in. And while i hope to have Doreen for years to come shes a sturdy mature lady that doesn't need to rely on her looks to get by. The odd scratch her and there would not bother Doreen.
It saved me having to go to a dealer and pretend I have any kind of clue about cars. Going around kicking the tyres and tutting isn't fooling anybody
I would be doing my friend a good turn before she left me.
I would be able to call my car Doreen without anyone being able to question my motives. It had that name when I bought her.

So we agreed. I would give Lisa €1000 and for that I would take ownership of Doreen Greene (yes, of course she has a full name). A 98 Waterford reg Nissan Micra GX 1.1ltr engine with 70,000 miles on the clock. As a couple of bonus sundrys that came with Doreen I got, a functioning car stereo with CD player, a hands free kit and phone charger that Lisa 'forgot' to return to her old job, an in-car dirt devil vacuum and a bright yellow lock for the the gearstick/handbrake.

Oh...i've recently discovered that I also got an ashtray full of chewed gum, that the seller was supposed to clean out before she gave me the car. Luckily I don't smoke so I can forgive her. Besides she had other things on her mind.

Someday, I will tell you all about the stresses and strains of learning to drive, dealing with mechanics and clipping the side of a Bin Lorry. I might even tell you about saying goodbye to Lisa, tearful train station hug et al. But for now, I just want people to know. I'm on the roads.

So as the old sergent from Hill Street Blues used to say. Lets be careful out there.

So how am I doing so far. Are we all liking the blog? Well if so why not click on the follow button on the side there. As a reward when I get a certain amount of followers I will post a little short story i wrote. Its funny and gross. I can't tell you how many I need before I post it. Like George Clooney said in Up in the Air. "I have a figure in mind but I haven't hit it yet"

So follow me...please. I'm a very needy person