Thursday, July 9, 2009

Celtic Tiger Homeless

"A rising tide lifts all boats"

Never has a saying been more true than in post-celtic tiger Ireland.

Most of us remember the days of sandy choc-ices at the beach, Sunday drives to nowhere in particular, Glenroe, Clarke's shoes and unapposed clerical abuse. Simpler times. All people really hoped for was some nice boiled ham and perhaps an extended holiday episode of Where in the World.

Not anymore.

These days people are more concerned with making sure they can watch Britin's Got Talent in HD while booking 2 weeks in Dubai over the internet or a table for two in Fwaa Fwaa's restraunt. And you really know that the country has lost the run of itself when even the homeless are choosy about whom they accept alms from.


I was standing on Abbey street in Dublin at the weekend when I was approched by the usual hooded unfortunate. Being accosted like this on a daily basis I found nothing out of the ordinary, until that is, this particular miscreant opened his mouth.

"Alrigh' bud?"


I was so I replied,


"Yes"


The crafty sod was expecting this response and had his next line ready to go,


"Do ya smoke bud?"


I do so I replied,


"Yup, want one?"


Then came a response I wasn't expecting...


"Dunno, what brand do you smoke?"


What brand do I smoke? Bloody hell! My response was swift...


"What brand? Are you fussy?"

He looked at me for a moment, most likely trying to decide wether to take the cigarette I was offering or take my head off. He settled for the cigarette and wandered off.


It left me wondering (aloud, much to the consternation of the shoppers around me) exactly how we have arrived at the stage where someone living on the streets feels they can interview perspective donators before asking for change/cigarettes/cans of cider. Have we come that far? Do the St. Vincent de Paul only accept food donations from Marks and Spencers? Do Trocaire now only accept credit cards?


Within 2 hours I was again standing on the street enjoying yet another cigarette outside a pub when another domestically challenged individual approched.


"Any chance of enough change for a can of Dutch Gold mate?"


Now cigarettes I don't mind, but lets face it, if I have enough change for a can of Dutch Gold you'll usually find me quaffing a can of Dutch Gold.


"Sorry mate, totally skint" I replied.


His demenor changed immediately.


"Well when you're out tonight looking for f**kin' coke don't come f**kin' lookin' for me. I'll f**kin' burst ya!"


Nice. Homeless but carrying enough class A drugs to power a small town.


Give me Glenroe any day.

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