Marie Of Euston Station - Dublin

Last Monday I missed the 1:25pm United flight from Dublin to Newark. All my fault. I got lost between terminals 1 and 2. It happens, but United rebooked my flight for tomorrow without offering free accommodations other than the inner security open 24 hours after day. I had seen several travelers stretched out on the stone floor three moons before.

There was another option and I called Mollie Rainforest, a photographer for the Trans Gender Festival. she hadn't any room, but contacted Harry, the director of PUPPY GIRL LOVE. He happily agreed to share his 4 star hotel room. Great news, although I had to kill time, since he had a meeting with his producers.

Years ago a few hours in a pub was an easy solution, except I've been off my drink for over four years. Sober all of them.

The hotel the Ashling across the River Liffey had a warm lobby that afternoon. Sunny outside and I crossed the river to the Victorian train station. The sun bright on the tidal stream. Tea. Irish tea. My Nana made a wicked cup of tea. Milky and sweet.

I entered the station. The first time in almost thirty years. Last time with Ty Spaulding heading back to Galeay to catch a bus to Cliften and then a car down to Bally oneeley. The station wss unchanged save for the digital depature board and the modern cafes. A train was leaving for the West. I walked to a sandwich shop. A old woman sat with an empty tea cup on the table along with a cigarette butt smoked to the quick.

Our eyes met with recognition. She was younger than me. Almost the same age. We knew the last century. She played with a strand of brown gray matted hair. We were from the 20th Century.

"Would you care for a cup of tea?"

"You don't have to."

"It will be my pleasure."

"Milk with one sugar."

She smiled and I cleared off her cup and cigarrette butt. THe tip was wet to my fingers. Saliva from her lips. Almost a kiss. I ordered two teas. Both with milk and one sugar. Two young women, Maria and Helen, both emigrants from Eastern Europe, served me. I recited a haiku and returned to the table/ Maria served up another smile. Nether of us were invisible to each other. Trhhough the weekend I had strolled through Dublin. rarely seeing poeple my age. Mostly tourists wandered to streets, cellphones in their hands. Maria and I saw each other, as did Maria and Helen. She sold me about a pianist play music in an hour. She had come to the station for that. To be with people. We spoke about nothing. I figure she was in her 60s. I had been in Dublin thirthy years ago. Maria had been thirty. I had only been in Dublin twice. I asked, if she had ever seen me beofre.

She smiled and said, "No, and I would have remembered you, if we had."

I ordered a sandwich. My ATM lacked the funds. I sat back with Maria and bid farewell. As I was leaving one of the counter girls, Marie, handed me a sandwich. A gift of humanity and I left Euston Station. It felt good to be back in Ireland.