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I ask her rate—fuck, it’s steep! “You’re chargin’ what?!” I’m mad, but she’s cool, “Quality costs, ET.” Fair. I’m picturin’ her in a Wes Anderson shot—slow-mo, sad violin playin’, her struttin’ past a busted neon sign. “I always wanted to be somebody,” she says, quotin’ Margot’s vibe. Deep, man. Makes me wonder—how’d she end up here? Prolly some tragic backstory, like Royal ditchin’ the fam.

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After the rain chills out, we get back on the road. I’m feeling a bit more relaxed, and we cruise down by the harbor. The boats are bobbing, and I’m like, “See? This is what driving’s all about!” But then, he nearly misses a turn on Abbey Street. I’m yelling, “Turn! TURN!” and he’s like, “Where?!” I’m thinking, “Dude, are you blind?!”

Fire service tackling blaze at factory in Wicklow