Although Irish people mainly speak english, it is more accurate to dub it Irish-english because of all the quirky phrase substitutions they have. It makes everything sound a lot more fun, in my opinion. For instance, a bow tie is called a dicky wicky. And the common phrase what the craic, refers to "what's up?" Craic in general means "fun," so if you are having a good time somewhere, you would say there's lots of craic here, or lots of craic!
The phrase I learned a little too well though, was winded up.
It happened on our first night in Dublin. Domhall decided to take us out to the local bars, away from Temple Bar (the district of bars that is infested with tourists). Here, we were surrounded by actual Irish people, and not fellow Study Abroad Looking To Get Wasted For Paddys Day Americans. At one of the bars, we noticed a guy wearing an Irish jersey. This caught my attention because I was looking to buy one for a costume party we planned on attending later. The plan was for me to dress as Jason Sherlock, a gaelic football player who is Asian. Anyways, I go up to the guy and ask him where he got his jersey. Before he can even respond, I feel a tap on my shoulder and turn face to face with an older woman. She was a beautiful, dark-haired Irish woman, probably in her late twenties.
"Why are you talking to my boyfriend?" she asks me. She did not look very happy.
Even in my "slightly" not sober mindset, it registered in my brain that I was in trouble. That this might officially become my International Incident Abroad. I was pretty [bleeping] scared.
"Nothing!" I started to bumble. "I don't like your boyfriend! I just wanted to know where he bought his jersey!" Words are spilling out of my mouth like an uncontrollable waterfall of drunken nervousness.
"So, you don't like my boyfriend. You don't think my boyfriend is cute?" This girl seems to sound even angrier, which I didn't think was possible.
Amidst my mad scramble of apologies and pleads, the girl suddenly embraces me in a hug and starts cackling hysterically.
"I am kidding, child! I never even met this guy before in my life! Ha Ha Ha Ha!!!!!!!"
I look down to see the original guy staring up at us both, probably wondering why he was being besieged by women he did not know.
In the end, the woman's laughter wasn't malicious, and we all had a good hoot about it together. Later I learned that I just faced a classic wind up situation. In more familiar terms, I was hella trolled.
The phrase I learned a little too well though, was winded up.
It happened on our first night in Dublin. Domhall decided to take us out to the local bars, away from Temple Bar (the district of bars that is infested with tourists). Here, we were surrounded by actual Irish people, and not fellow Study Abroad Looking To Get Wasted For Paddys Day Americans. At one of the bars, we noticed a guy wearing an Irish jersey. This caught my attention because I was looking to buy one for a costume party we planned on attending later. The plan was for me to dress as Jason Sherlock, a gaelic football player who is Asian. Anyways, I go up to the guy and ask him where he got his jersey. Before he can even respond, I feel a tap on my shoulder and turn face to face with an older woman. She was a beautiful, dark-haired Irish woman, probably in her late twenties.
"Why are you talking to my boyfriend?" she asks me. She did not look very happy.
Even in my "slightly" not sober mindset, it registered in my brain that I was in trouble. That this might officially become my International Incident Abroad. I was pretty [bleeping] scared.
"Nothing!" I started to bumble. "I don't like your boyfriend! I just wanted to know where he bought his jersey!" Words are spilling out of my mouth like an uncontrollable waterfall of drunken nervousness.
"So, you don't like my boyfriend. You don't think my boyfriend is cute?" This girl seems to sound even angrier, which I didn't think was possible.
Amidst my mad scramble of apologies and pleads, the girl suddenly embraces me in a hug and starts cackling hysterically.
"I am kidding, child! I never even met this guy before in my life! Ha Ha Ha Ha!!!!!!!"
I look down to see the original guy staring up at us both, probably wondering why he was being besieged by women he did not know.
In the end, the woman's laughter wasn't malicious, and we all had a good hoot about it together. Later I learned that I just faced a classic wind up situation. In more familiar terms, I was hella trolled.
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| Me with my new friend |
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