Oh my God! They Kilkenny!! (4)

Lindsay and me got out of the taxi at the station. She paid him €5 and we walked to the platform. I had a return ticket; all I had to do was get on the train. We sat there, not talking too much, when I noticed a loud voice. Lindsay looked across to her right, past me, and suddenly pulled her head back.

“What, who is that?”

“Never mind”.

Of course, I did mind. I looked across, and a fierce, glaring pair of eyes stared at me. A brazen bitch, no other word could describe her. I hated her the minute I laid eyes on her. She just stared back, burning. The social conditioning a normal person has would tell them that staring is rude, staring is anti-social. But this girl, this bitch, was anti-social. Or maybe she never knew what social was, only the money her mother got every Thursday. But she set out to make Lindsay uncomfortable.

She just kept saying things to her friend, loudly so we could hear. It was pathetic. “What’s she doin’ with him?” “Ugly bitch” “I thought she liked David”.

And then I twigged it. David. Her ex. I looked at Lindsay, she was upset. Who was she? And what was her problem? It turned out this girl was a friend of David’s current girlfriend. She didn’t know Lindsay, only that her friend didn’t like him because she thought she was trying to steal her man. So this yoke had taken it upon herself to publicly humiliate Lindsay. I wanted to go over to her, but Lindsay said to leave it. I should have. But they were about to get on the train, and if they were going to bother anyone then, it’d be me. And I could handle that.

The train came, and I walked Lindsay to the other end of the train, away from the two…. things. I hugged her and told her to just go home and try and compose herself and not to worry. She’d done nothing wrong. I smiled to her as I took my seat on the train. It’s ok, just go home and have a nice cup of tea. We’ve had a great time, all in all, and just remember that. Never forget that, it’s why I came. To give you a good memory. It must be so hard to live in a place like that, where you have to worry about what complete strangers have to say publicly about you in broad daylight. I waved from my seat; she was on the phone, crying now, probably on to her Dad so he’d collect her. I smiled, it was ok. She got off the phone and I rung her. I told her to wave to me, she did. I wanted her smiling to be the last thing I’d see on leaving. I wanted that happy memory. “Bye!”

But no. Suddenly the Bitch returned. She wasn’t getting on the train, only her friend was. I couldn’t hear anything; I only saw the unspeakable bag of shit yelling at Lindsay. It was nasty, horrible, disgusting. I felt sick, and immediately stood up to go out to them. The train started moving, the doors were sealed shut. It was too late. I wanted to fucking smash that bitch’s head off the wall. I wanted to seriously damage her. I felt nothing but pure rage. I just…lost it. Because I knew what might happen. I knew. I just knew.

I rang her phone. She answered it calmly, despite the fact the bitch was still there. I told her to walk away, she didn’t have to stay and listen to this bitch. She said, “ok so” and hung up. I rung her back, but it was off. I felt sick, sick with fear and white-hot rage. The kind of rage I’d never felt in a long time. I’m easygoing. I hardly ever fight; hell, I hardly ever disagree. I only argue with my family over silly things, like tidying the kitchen and leaving mugs in a room. But I suppose I must care for Lindsay a bit to get that worked up. I rang her phone again. Why is it off? Was it thrown on the train tracks? Was she thrown on the train tracks? Was it stolen? Was Lindsay mugged? I stood up. I couldn’t do anything. I had my phone, keys and wallet, all I needed. And yet I couldn’t save her. It was a nightmare. A real-life nightmare, and I felt helpless. I hate that. I never get to be a hero. I would’ve been that.

I didn’t want to ring her house. It might alarm them too much. “Is Lindsay home yet?” “No, why?” “No reason….” Her mother would freak. So I waited. I couldn’t do a thing, her phone was still off but I kept trying. I left a voice message and a text message. Eventually, I weighed up my options and rung her house. I got thought to her brother. She was there. I actually sighed out loud with relief. She sounded fine. I asked her if she walked away like I told her to. She said she did. “Right after she hit me”.

Now I wanted to throw up. I was so upset, so angry. I was cold on the train until then; a few too many windows were open. Then I began to warm up. If I saw her friend get off the train in Dublin, I was gonna go up to her and just…go nuts. Lindsay told me to calm down. Calm down. It’s ok. She was only worried about what I might have heard off her. I didn’t care.

It was hard for me to think about the debs since that. I couldn’t imagine how I was going to write about it. I think I did a bit job of it, but at least I waited til I was more composed. I wanted to call this entry “I Want To Smash That Fucking Bitch’s Head In”. But that would’ve taken from the whole lovely experience up until that moment. It may have been a little awkward in the end, but it was nice. I don’t know if we could ever be more than close, close friends. But I didn’t need this, and Lindsay definitely didn’t deserve this. She called the guards and they gave her a warning. Lindsay didn’t want to press charges. I can kind of understand that; the hassle of having to deal with the shit that would follow that might be too much to deal with for what would only end up as a few dozen hours community service. It’s a sour taste to end of a week’s worth of life. But I think we’ve both come to terms with it. Lindsay’s texted me several times about the great time she had. I really wanted to be able to walk into work the next day grinning from ear to ear, but all I could manage was a weak “hi”. Maybe I was in shock. But no, now I think it was a great night, a great occasion and the psychopathic nature of one, insignificant waste of space can’t take that away.

By the way, Cormac’s on Valium now, he’s feeling a lot happier. Or wound up like a kid’s toy.

And Lindsay’s…Lindsay and I are still talking but I just know I don’t want this to go further. I know she’s not the one. She’s close. B