Lift of Irish Laughter

This Christmas, for the second year running I had trouble with the lift that brings passengers from the Luas terminal at Connolly Station to the station itself one storey up. The classically bad design begins with the positioning of the door at the back of the lift, which, when you are carrying suitcases, rucksacks and carrier bags full of Christmas shopping is not terribly helpful. When I stepped in I noticed a couple with a baby carriage and I duly kept the doors open for them. We then stood waiting for the doors to close, which never happened, despite repeated attempts to press the appropriate button. The couple soon tired of waiting and stepped out of the lift, as did I. As soon as I turned away to take the stairs up, the doors shut behind me and the lift began its ascent to the upper level. There was a sadistic air to the shutting of the doors and the subsequent smooth kicking-in of the lift’s machinery. Still it was not near as bad as what happened at the same place and at the same time last year, when I gallantly reopened the doors just as they were folding to let two elderly ladies in. The doors’ recoil knocked over one of the ladies’ enormous rolling suitcase, which domino-like then sent the frail old dear to the floor. I was horrified and commenced apologising profusely, only to be told by the outraged septuagenarians to ‘go on up, yourself’. It was something to make Larry David blush. I was only trying to be nice.