—Hi, can you help me? Like, um, what’s a euro? I’ve just like arrived from the states and I really don’t have my bearings yet.
—Well, a euro is a little small thing you use to buy things.
—So, um, it’s kind of like a dollar?
—Yes, but not quite as thick.
—Hmh. Losing focus. Eat face. Hmh, hmh.
—Come on Samsonite, you’re embarrassing me. You’re slowly ruining my social credibility.
The dog begins barking incessantly.
—Just shut up you little bastard or I’ll have you neutered. Yeah, I mean it this time.
That’ll shut him up.
—But EOB! What am I going to do with this potassium permanganate all over my hands! My social life is ruined!
—Don’t be ridiculous. It’ll fade away in a couple of days. Social life!
—I’ll have twenty Marlboro lights and a pack of those faggy cigarettes for women.
—Excuse me?
—You know the ones, with the flowers on them.
—I don’t know what you’re talking about.
—Jeesus! And you call yourself a newsagent.
A drunk aulfella in Ranelagh.
—Can you spare some change or something, I’m staying in the hostel or whatever.
—You’re not very good at this pretending to be homeless thing, are you?
The aulfella knocks his head against the cash machine outside Ulster Bank.
—Ah jaysus, don’t I know it.
Have two euro for your trouble and buy yourself a Kinder Bueno in Centra.
For the way we live today.
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