Public Enemy Numero Uno

I know I've been doing some complaining lately about living in a different country, but overall it truly has been a wonderful experience with minimal adjustments.
However, I just cannot ignore what happened last night. . .you'll have to hear about it, too.
I met up with A.C. and Katherine, two cool chicas who are here with their husbands for the project, yesterday afternoon. They get together to let their girls play every couple of days or so and even though I don't have kids yet, I'm pretty entertaining. Perhaps because I don't have kids yet. Or maybe because I make brownies and give them to their children--isn't getting other people's kids all jacked up on sugar great??
So I left to pick up John from work and we were planning a little date night out at Bennigans so I could have some familiar food. Sidenote: it really stinks when you order something that you really want but it tastes just a few shades "off". That's what all the food tastes like here--familiar enough to still be called "hamburger" or "pizza" or "chicken" but it just tastes weird enough to eat it but be disappointed.
But back to my story. . .
I was in the middle of awful traffic and finally I got through the light to turn onto the street where John works. But as I was almost out of the intersection, traffic completely stopped. So here I am, inching as close to the Lexus in front of me--who has PLENTY of room to move up and over and let me get out of the intersection, mind you!!!--blocking all traffic. After a few minutes of hand-wringing and no movement. This guy jumps out of hig Garda (police) car and motions for me to roll my window down. Being the police, I assume he is going to HELP me and direct traffic so everyone is not in this crummy predicament.
But, no.
He is YELLING at me about how I cannot go where there is no space and that I'm blocking all traffic.
Duh. Like I didn't notice that.
So as soon as he starts yelling at me, Lexus man finally moves so I can get out of the intersection.
The garda dude yells some more then gives me the stink eye as he's getting into his car to drive away. Does he help the situation at all? NO. He just yelled at me.
Finally I got through the horrible traffic. (The Irish have no sense of urgency when driving so they will not pull up close to the person behind them to make space or hustle through a light. Perhaps it's different in Dublin, but here no one seems to be in a hurry.)
By the time I got to John's office, I was completely blubbering--not so much that I was yelled at--the guy was a moron for not helping in the situation because yelling did nothing. But just because things are so minorly different here and after a while it just sort of builds up and makes you crazy. And because I had finally met the first rude person in this country. Jerk.
So since I was a mess and just wanted to go home, we skipped Bennigans (this may sound like a LAME date night to you but it is awesome because the food is familiar--there is not a Chili's or Fridays or chain restaurant on every corner, remember.). By the time I stopped sobbing and tried to salvage what might be left of our date night, we were close to home and I saw a great parking spot at Mr. Dee's Chinese Restaurant. This place is always packed so we decided to try it. It was very fancy and ridiculously expensive but we figured we'd give it a go.
Just as I got myself settled down I started getting emotional again. The waitress came over to the table to take our order and we said we needed another minute. Her response: "Well, maybe you should keep your menus OPEN so we don't think you're ready." In a totally Chinese, rude voice.
THAT WAS IT!!
I must have had a sign on my back that said "Please be an a****** to me" because I encountered the two rude people in this country in the same night. I grabbed my coat and purse and stalked out of the place even before John knew what was happening.
I would rather forage in my own fridge than pay 18Euro for a crappy Chinese entree from a rude person!!
Much sobbing later, John calmed me down and we got back to some semblance of normalcy for the evening.
But I think those crafty Chinese restaurant people got their "revenge". The moment John turned off the light for use to go to bed, the doorbell rings. This is a very uncommon occurance since we know, um, no one in this country.
He throws on some clothes; I'm wishing we had a gun because I KNOW it's some intruder that is going to rob our home and he's just using the easiest access to the house. (Please don't get me started on home protection here.) Turns out, it's the Chinese delivery girl who is trying to find whoever placed the order. I think Mr. Dee tailed us to our house and ordered the delivery and will continue to do so until we submit to his high prices and funky smells in his restaurant!!! But I've always been a bit of a conspiracy theorist, so what do I know. . .
Moral of the story: life is grand here in Ireland, land of green scenery and some other stuff, but you really have to miss Texas where the chips and salsa are fresh and the Chinese food, cheap. I'll try not to provoke any more police officers while here, but I can't promise anything. People get hot-tempered about the strangest stuff. . .