Heuston Station, Dublin and the power of Piss
I often dread when the time comes for me to take the train, not that there is anything wrong with trains per se, in fact I love their relative speediness and that you can eat and drink things without them falling off the table. It is the train station that I dread. Heuston station is very underwhelming, for the amount of activity and people that pass through, it is quite small. I don’t like the fact that I usually have to queue up at least an hour before my train leaves so I’m not the last one in a long snake of individuals trailing back to the entrance. Then there are the food outlets of which there is a staggeringly low choice, most people end up eating in Supermac’s since it’s about the cheapest option. I usually regret eating there about the same moment I feel a great heaviness in my stomach and a slight outer body experience owing to the large amount of over processed carbohydrates I’ve just eaten. To be fair to them they are a lot better than MacDonald’s, whose chips are suspiciously uniform with a faint taste of fish, and their burgers look like murdered squids with damp spots of perspiration.
The other options of food in the train station are quite expensive and occasionally make me angry. Sandwiches limp and congealed being sold for about five euro and you are expected to smile as you hand over your smelly coins. I hate the smell of coins, sort of like a weird pissy metallic smell. The Butler’s kiosk is an exception, since the hot chocolate is quite nice and a lot better than quite a few that I’ve sampled in so called coffee bars. Makes you feel a bit better about having to feel someone’s moving suitcase pushing against you in the line as you try to read a newspaper or magazine.
At times I daydream and wish some Germans would come over and build a nice new transport system that could be put together like Lego bricks so then it would give all the unemployed people a job to do, they could start in Dublin and then make it radiate out like a spider’s web until it covered the whole country and then we would all rejoice and sit down on the hill to have some Pimm’s. When in Germany I was absolutely astounded at their superior infrastructure and marvelled at how there really was a country where I would not need to bother learning to drive. Cars are overrated and there’s too much of them.
Maybe instead of building a load of crappy ugly box houses, had Ireland concentrated on improving the dismal public transport system, we wouldn’t feel like we wasted so much money. Instead of all those inane house buying-selling-decorating shows we could have programs about trains and trams and railways with Thomas the tank engine making a guest appearance. It’s a depressing thought that the railway networks were probably a lot more numerous fifty years ago.
I don’t want to have to drive a car, I hate them. I wouldn’t mind a car that ran on urine, I’m sure that has been done somewhere, and since we all piss so goddamn much it’s not like we would ever run out. Just build some sort of pipe system that starts in the bathroom where each member of the family can piss into, separate from the toilet, (you don’t want the other stuff contaminating your lovely piss-petrol) which is then deposited somewhere outside in a big thick plastic barrel with a nice petrol pump so the car can be filled. And for those people who don’t piss that much you can buy it from reputable sellers, which will probably be pub owners, since their premises will be producing it by the gallon, especially at the weekend.
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