A Dublin Story

posted on may 14, 2004, tag: vacation

On the last day of our vacation, we had to fly from Dublin back to London, then from London back to the US. The flight from Dublin was at 7AM, and we arrived at the airport at 6AM for check-in. We left the hotel at 5AM. We woke up at 4AM. We went to sleep the night before at 12AM. Needless to say, even though I just did—we were tired and it was early. Coffee and tea were a must.

Shortly after checking in, we ignored the voice on the PA system telling us—every two minutes—to proceed immediately to the gate after check-in and strolled upstairs to the cafe area. Katia went to find a table and I queued at Brewster's, a Starbucks-esque coffee & muffins kiosk.

The airport was teeming with people, even at this early hour, and the queue was long. Behind me stood a tired-looking man in his early 20s, headphones on and eyes nearly closed. In front of me, two women were chatting loudly. One of the two women was a midget. I say midget rather than dwarf because she didn't have disproportionate features. She was just very, very small. I'm about six feet tall. She, I would say, was about three and a half. Maybe less. The woman she was with was not a midget. They spoke with Irish accents and about some client of their company who did somethingorother.

When the first woman ordered, she requested a large coffee and a small mocha. She also ordered two muffins. The women then continued to talk. A few moments later, the waitress finished tapping the order into her computer and, while another waitress fulfilled the order, she if she could help the next customer. I took a half-step forward and said, "Can I have an English breakfast tea and—"

"Um, hello? I was next, you jerk!" the midget woman yelled from below me, cutting me off. "What, you ignoring me because I'm small?" It took a moment to register that she was talking to me. I thought she was yelling at someone else. The waitress didn't understand what was going on, because she couldn't see the midget woman due to the fact that the counter at the kiosk was four feet tall. I felt my face turn red.

"I'm not ignoring you, I thought—"
"You thought wrong. I'm next in line," she barked at me. I could feel everyone staring at me. Suddenly, I was the jerk who ignores midgets. Really, though, it was pretty obvious what happened. I assumed the woman in front of the midget had ordered for both of them (why else would she order for two?), and I responded to the waitress because she looked right at me. I obviously didn't ignore the midget. But in that moment, I felt like there was no way for me to get that across, so I didn't even try.

The midget ordered and I waited.

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