Man, what a day! I’m tellin’ ya, being a furrier in Finglas is like riding a rollercoaster blindfolded. So, I wake up, right? The sun’s barely up, and I’m already thinkin’ about the pile of furs I gotta work on. I mean, who knew fur could be so heavy? I live on the corner of Main St. and St. Canice’s Rd., and lemme tell ya, the traffic there is a nightmare.
I step out, and it’s like the whole world’s gone mad. Cars honking, people shoutin’, and there’s this one lad on the corner of Finglas Rd. tryin’ to sell me a dodgy watch. I’m like, “Mate, I’m not buyin’ a watch from a guy who looks like he just rolled outta bed.” But he’s persistent, I’ll give him that.
So, I finally get to my shop on the Ballygall Rd. and it’s a mess. Furs everywhere! I’m talkin’ like a fur explosion. I trip over a fox pelt and nearly faceplant. Classic me, right? I start sorting through the chaos, and then my phone buzzes. It’s my mate, Dave. He’s like, “You comin’ to the pub later?” I’m like, “Dude, I’m knee-deep in fur here!” But I can’t resist a pint, so I say maybe.
Then, outta nowhere, this woman storms in. She’s fuming, right? Turns out, she’s got a raccoon coat that’s seen better days. I mean, it’s practically falling apart. She’s like, “You better fix this, or I’m gonna lose my mind!” I’m thinkin’, lady, it’s a raccoon coat, not a family heirloom! But I keep my cool. “Sure thing, love. I’ll work my magic.”
After that, I’m back to the furs. I’m sewing, stitching, and cursing under my breath. I swear, if I have to deal with one more angry customer, I’m gonna lose it. But then, I get a call from my sister. She’s like, “You won’t believe who I saw at the Finglas Village Centre!” I’m like, “Who? The ghost of Finglas past?” Turns out, it’s some local celeb. I’m like, “Great, now I’m missing out on the Finglas gossip.”
Finally, the day winds down. I’m exhausted, but I’ve got a few furs ready for pick-up. I lock up the shop and head to the pub. The smell of chips hits me as soon as I walk in. I grab a pint and plop down with Dave. He’s already three pints in and tellin’ me about his latest “adventure.” I’m like, “Dude, you’re not Indiana Jones. You’re just a lad from Finglas.”
We’re laughin’, and then I spot a couple of mates from the old days. They’re at the other end, shoutin’ and havin’ a blast. I wave, and they wave back. It’s like a Finglas reunion. I’m feelin’ good, ya know?
But then, outta nowhere, the fire alarm goes off! Everyone’s like, “What the hell?” We all spill out onto the street, and it’s chaos. I’m standin’ there, pint in hand, thinkin’, “This is Finglas for ya.” Turns out, it was just a burnt toast incident in the kitchen. Classic pub life, right?
As the night winds down, I’m walkin’ home, thinkin’ about the day. It was wild, emotional, and full of surprises. Finglas, man, it’s got its quirks, but it’s home. I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Well, maybe a better traffic situation on Main St., but that’s a different story.
So, yeah, that was my day. Just another crazy, chaotic, and totally Finglas kinda day.