Riding shotgun is a skill many are unable to master
YOU’VE got to admire the chutzpah of some people.
This week, police at Barcelona airport stopped a man who was attempting to smuggle half a kilo of cocaine into the country… under his toupee.
Let that sink in. That’s €30,000 worth of cocaine hidden under a wig.
Hawk-eyed law enforcement officers knew something was up because of the “disproportionate size” of the man’s hairpiece.
If you haven’t seen the photo yet and would like a visual, imagine Des Cahill meets Al Pacino in ‘88 Minutes’, meets Marge Simpson.
“There is no limit to the inventiveness of drug traffickers trying to mock controls,” police said afterwards. Their words seems a little earnest – he was hardly a master of disguise.
Look, I don’t know much about the drug cartel business (although I have heard it’s long hours, and the holidays are rubbish), but I think we can all agree that the worst way to smuggle half a kilo of cocaine is to precariously balance a ziplocked bag of the stuff atop of your head under a €2 joke shop wig.
The only way it could have been more conspicuous is if he had chucked on a felt mustachio and drawn a pair of glasses on with felt tip pen.
Riding shotgun is a skill many are unable to master
AFTER years of riding shotgun, I am finally learning how to drive.
I used to be proud of my non-driver status. I mistakenly thought it gave me an edge; an insouciant attitude – unfettered by the practicalities of everyday life.
On top of this, it imbued me with an exhilarating sense of environmental superiority. Much like Captain Planet’s Planeteers – I was (by default) helping to bring pollution ‘down to zero’.
But then life gets in the way, doesn’t it? And you realise that travelling back on the 140 bus from Ikea holding a flat pack Hemnes Highboy isn’t the lark you thought it would be.
Plus, guilt tripping your parents to give you a lift to the cinema when you’re over 30 is, well, profoundly depressing for everyone involved.
So I started the lessons and they’re fine. Grand. Couldn’t complain if I wanted to.
But the main thing I’ve realised while practising is how rubbish other people are at being shotgun passengers.
This is a massively under appreciated skill set. Not everyone knows how to be a perfect road trip partner. And there is no test to get it right.
So to help anyone out there regularly cadging a lift, here are some tips for making sure you are an ideal car companion: :: Don’t sleep, don’t put in headphones, and don’t spend hours on Football Manager;
:: Don’t touch the AC or heating system;
:: Don’t change the radio station;
:: Keep an assortment of snacks;
:: Do not panic if you get lost. Getting lost does not faze you. Pretend you haven’t noticed;
:: Visit Applegreen;
:: Don’t place your feet on the dashboard;
:: Come armed with a decent amount of gossip – this is the perfect space to untangle long-standing feuds, and psychoanalyse people;
:: Don’t ask ‘are we there yet?’
Taking the ‘sonic aural pilgrimage’ to Killester
SPEAKING of travel, the Dublin Fringe Festival unveiled its shiny new programme this week, which includes an immersive performance piece taking place on board a Dart carriage. What fun!
The directors are calling it a ‘sonic aural pilgrimage’ – makes taking the 7.05am to Killester sound a bit more exciting, doesn’t it?