Sick and Indecent?


So out of the corner of my eye over lunch I see the writing on the wall above. It does say indecent, right…just misspelled? Sick and indecent? How twisted is the Irish humor?  And where do I sign up for this club’s membership!?! But more about this later…

From St. Patrick’s it’s an easy walk over to the Christ Church Cathedral. It sprawls so I have to show it to you as a triptych:


This church has been dated back to year 1030 of Viking roots. Today it has a Facebook fan page and you can even follow it on Twitter.  For a more personal relationship, you could rent its crypt for events including wedding receptions!


I rather fancy the crypt as I tend to keep vampire hours, but I think the church’s space above ground is grander:


I’m not sure what to make of its businesslike approach but I suppose this beautiful cathedral is a living museum, and sanctuaries cost money. On my way out, as I snap pictures of people around the church taking care of business,


I see a sign near here…


that spells out how much it costs per hour to keep the doors of this church open, hence the entrance fee and what not.  That’s the stark reality of maintaining structures of historic significance, whether it’s a house of God or a house for men who fight over the definition of God (more on this later, too).

Anyhow, as I leave the cathedral from Lord Edward Street heading toward Dame Street…


the streets fill with locals running out for lunch and tourists milling about with maps in hand. I actually pop inside Charlies’ for a quick bite since I still have a long list of things to see by today’s end and it’s across the street from where I want to go next.  As I’m eating lunch here, which is OK if you just want some hot and fast Chinese/Malaysian food, the owner comes in carrying a beat-up pale pink Prada purse and a bunch of men (one in a suit, most in workmen’s uniform) follow to have a meeting with her at the table near mine. It sounds like she needs stuff fixed in this building, particularly the roof.  Not that I’m eavesdropping. I’m too busy debating whether her purse is real or fake…mainly because I haven’t seen that style. Not that I am a walking encyclopedia of Prada bags or anything, but I do have a decent microfiche system occupying my occipital lobe of purses designed after 1975. And because of this, I do not remember names or birthdays. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Halfway through my lunch there’s a ruckus near the door then a group of kids dash by the window facing the alley behind me. Some are in costume:


I run out the door and get a shot of the gremlins before they disappear:


If you look closely at that pic above, you’ll see the sign that says Stage Door. There are a few theaters in this area–I’m actually a few doors down from the Olympia Theater–and I run into different groups of theater kids throughout the next few days around here. They’re always loud and dramatic. But where was I? Yes, it turns out there are four Charlies within a small radius as I walk by one then another. I find out later that this Chinese take-out chain is especially popular with the late-night crowds who have had one beer too many. I like how enterprising this all is. I am going to have to say her bag is real. She can afford it!

So before I leave you, let’s have another shot of today’s opening photo, shall we?


Turns out it’s really the Sick & Indigent Roomkeepers’ Society, the oldest charity in Dublin to help the destitute. No misspelling or naughty connotation…just my head in the gutters and my eyes requiring Lasik. And I haven’t even imbibed yet. More on that later.



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