Caution - Embarrassment Ahead

What with the infamous Mr Suduko encounter and the embarrassing incident with a coffee cup and a schoolboy’s homework(*), some of my best moments have been on the Dart. Prepare for the latest episode in the series.

I was under a bit of time pressure this morning and the rain brought even more commuter cars out than normal. Tony, bless his cotton socks, knew that I would be late for my early morning meeting so he dropped me as close to the station door as possible. Alas, South Dublin is populated with many such chivalrous partners and so I still had to dash through the automobile obstacle course in the rain. My friend in the ticket office knew from the way that I hitched up my skirt and vaulted one of those Smart cars that I was determined to catch the dart on the platform. He quickly threw me a return ticket and kindly insisted that I could settle up with him tomorrow morning. I legged it through the turnstile just as the beep, beep, beeps heralded the carriage doors closing.

It’s at times like this that I am pleased to have been a gold medal winning athlete in my time. Of course the pinnacle of my running career was in a particularly poor under-12 relay race at sports day in Muire Gan Smal and Catherine Parker’s team had been disqualified for two false starts. But I digress.

I landed in the carriage on the ‘p’ of the final beep and the doors slammed behind me. The Dart was one of those new trains with few seats and lots of standing room. Surprisingly it was quite empty which is just as well. My excuse is that my shoes were particular slippy, my heels higher than I normally wear and the floor treacherous with rainwater dripping from assorted umbrellas. Suffice to say my legs went in opposite directions and I started scrambling like a cross between a newborn giraffe and Lisa Minnelli on speed. For an eternity, I bravely battled the forces of gravity as I flailed like a woman possessed. The two iPod-clad lads reading the metro looked up stunned by the sudden arrival of this crazy woman in a light pink business suit. So stunned in fact that neither could react in time to rescue me from my plight. Still I scrambled determined not to hit the deck and ruin my new Vero Moda outfit.

I managed to grab hold of one of those yellow vertical handrails. Half way to safety! I clung on for dear life but my legs had by now grown accustomed to their bambi like existence and were determined to continue the dance of the drowning flamingo. But I’m nothing if not determined. Recalling those great World War II escape movies that I used to watch with my Dad, I summoned up unknown upper body strength and began pulling myself upright. Hand over Hand like the most hardened POW camp escapee. I finally got myself into a more lady-like stance and took a sharp intake of breadth.

I’d just about convinced myself that I’d dodge another embarrassing incident when iPod Man 1 whipped off his headphones and urgently enquired if I was alright. Seconds later iPod Man 2 was also shook from his trance. Unfortunately iPod Man 2 didn’t take off his headphones and I suppose the loudness of the Nirvana track could be offered as mitigation. Nevertheless, his theatrically loud whisper – “Just as well, love, you took those pole dancing lessons!” echoed through the carriage. I had to exit at Booterstown with embarrassment!

Paige

(*) somethings are too embarrassing to blog about!