Sacking the Temple
Published 08/12/2012 | 05:00
• My wife and I went to see a film in Temple Bar last Friday night. On leaving the cinema, a man whom I can only describe as stociously drunk shouted "How was the film?" at a foreign girl in front of us, who crossed her arms and escaped as quickly as she could.
A couple of metres farther on, we found ourselves having to step over the streams of urine on the pathway.
Once we got out on to the main street, we were offered "free shots with our first drinks" by a pushy vendor.
A few metres on, a girl got out of a taxi wearing nothing more than a shoulderless summer top, tiny mini-skirt and heels (it was the last day of November in Ireland and 2C outside).
A few metres farther, there was a group of youths in hoodies and tracksuit bottoms hanging out on the street who looked like they were chewing wasps. One of them shouted aggressively at me: "Would ye smile, it's f*ckin' Friday night!"
Our final brush with the wildlife of Dublin before we arrived at our bus stop was a guy on crutches, drunk out of his mind.