I pulled over in Drumcondra on my way to work this morning, to pick up bread and bananas for lunch. I was halfway out the driver's door when some drenched oulfella heaved himself into the passenger seat of the car. He looked at me, all pissed off, and I looked at him, appalled that I'd forgotten to lock the door and was about to be robbed by a pensioner and would have no money left for bread and bananas. "Are you not a taxi?" he said. "No!" I squeaked. Then I sat there and waited for him to hoist his arthritic frame back out into the rain.
“It was like paying money to watch someone beat a dog.” - *Lost Memory of Skin by Russell Banks*