‘’The dark secrets of Dublin’’

Adventure 1: The girl I had met before

Dear (future) grandchildren,

Recently you told your parents that I was just a boring old man who doesn’t get out of his chair much. But when I was your age (23) I was a real adventurer. In my younger years, my parents took me out to see ‘the world’. I have travelled far and wide and was exposed to so many cultures and people… When I turned 18 my parents thought it would be a good idea to send me to Berlin, where I was supposed to pick up the German language. But instead of studying much, I was young of mind and rather spend my days in the Irish pubs of Berlin. It was here where I met an Irish girl, with the prettiest smile and character you could ever imagine. We spoke all night until the sun came up. However, when the day began our roads split up and we never saw each other again. That was, however up until a few years later.

When I had just become 23 in 2016, I took part of an Erasmus program and was sent to Ireland. Knowing that, I wouldn’t be able to see my family and my country again for a couple of months I felt curious and excited. When I arrived in Dublin for the first time, it was raining but yet the streets were crowded with people. The bus drove me to my new home, which I shared with 3 unknown Brazilian lads, who later became my best friends. At day one, I knew nobody. But that changed quickly when the Brazilians took me out for a beer. They asked me, why of all countries and cities did you pick Ireland and Dublin? This was the moment that I first told them about the Irish girl from back in the day in Berlin. And the hope that I cherished of meeting her again. I told them there was still a chance since I had kept her phone number for all those years. That night they pushed me into drunk texting her, which I did. The next day she texted me back, full of excitement! I asked her if she wanted to go out and drink a coffee or something. But that week she couldn’t because she was too busy. So, we had to postpone a meeting. Weeks went by and I decided to text her again, again with the request to get some coffee or something. And yet again, it was a bad timing…

By now Dublin had become more and more my new home, I knew the streets, had many friends and had been to even more bars. However, everyone was always talking about this cool place called ‘Diceys’. It was supposed to be ‘the place to be’ because it was large, full of people and most of all considered cheap.

The Dubliners are different from the Dutch, they speak their own ‘slang’ language and the girls wear loads of make-up and ‘weird’ clothes. Weeks had passed before I first found out the meaning of the words ‘’Grand and that’s Gas’. Anyway, I tried to fit in the best I could, but instead of painting my hair purple or green I just decided to wear two different colored (one red, one blue) shoes.

Lather that day, I asked my Brazilian housemate if he would join me to check out Diceys. Unfortunately for me I was not allowed to enter that evening, due to my different colored shoes. I was so disappointed that my housemate said, ‘’my friend, Diceys sucks! I will show you the real beauty of Dublin tonight! Just follow me and do what I do.’’ And so I did.

During this evening he showed me the coolest places, like ‘the River bar’ and ‘O’Reilly’s’. But he showed me something much bigger… While traveling from bar to bar he showed me his ‘’street rep’’. Apparently my housemate knew so many street people he could get anything done, including free taxi bicycle rides and all of the other stuff that they supplied... At one point during the night he brought me to ‘this’ dark weird lighted place with the most beautiful half naked dancing girls. In other words, he brought me to ‘the’ gentlemen’s club. Innocent as I was, I bought my friend a lap dance while I waited upstairs for him to comeback. During this time, I was looking at the dancing pole lady who was showing of her sick moves.

Later, I noticed a girl standing next to the bar, just glimpsing at me. The clothes she was(n’t) wearing indicated that she was one of the strippers. But this one was special, since she looked familiar to me… When she noticed I was looking back at her, she quickly turned her back to me and I was too late to truly identify her face. But that hair, that body… It all came back to me so fast, it must have been her! The girl I met in Berlin… The main reason I choose Dublin for, I had to be certain it was her. I quickly stood up and sprinted to the bar so I could tap her on her shoulder. But it all went a bit different, the moment I jumped of my seat the Vodka and other alcoholic drinks kicked in and I fell face down on the floor.

I remember the next morning… Waking up in my own bed, smelling of the night before. My housemate passed-out on the chair next to me... That day, my whole body felt like I was hit by a car. But the memory of that night was still very much alive! I remembered that I had seen her and I was determined to find out if it had actually happened, or if it had all been a big dream.

So in the days that followed, I texted her, a lot! I was determined to get that coffee with her and for a moment my wish was granted. She agreed on a coffee date and we would meet at this lovely place called Starbucks which was right next to the O’ Connell Monument. Full of excitement, I waited, while being half an hour early, in the Starbucks. In the meantime I was rephrasing all of my questions to her in my head. I drunk so much coffee in those hours, men I felt on fire that day! But the first hour had passed away and she still hadn’t showed up.. Now one cultural thing everyone should be aware of, is that the Irish are never on time! So it felt like no surprise to me, that she didn’t show up in time. I actually was expecting her to be late. Unfortunately, she never showed up that day and I had waited two hours for nothing. Men I felt disappointed...

When I returned home that day, I told my housemates what happened. I even came up with a theory of what might have happened. Like a car accident or maybe something more horrible/mean like her pimp didn’t let her go or something.

Anyway, my Erasmus was about to end and before I would fly back to the Netherlands I had to go to that gentlemen’s club, at least once more! So I went again, and I brought my housemates with me, but unfortunately she wasn’t there (that night).

I felt defeated when I returned to the Netherlands. During the flight I was sitting silently in my chair thinking of the memories I had made and reliving my most memorable drunk night out in Dublin. A week later, when I was back in the Netherlands, she texted me and apologized. She said that she had become a model, for some sort of Irish chips brand… She then sent me a picture of the ‘chips’ modeling work standing next to some sort of potato, within the background... The Familiar Street and entry of the gentlemen’s club. Could it all have been possible..? I had to find out, so I returned the next summer.

But that dear children, is a story for next time.. So, what is your opinion of this ‘old’ men now? Still think I’m uninteresting?