"Meredith, we're sending you to Ireland."
The news hit me in the face like a brick. The air was leaving my chest. I was going to Ireland?
"WHAT?! WHAT?! WHY!?" I felt my chest already hurting, my heart beating out of my chest. "Please don't tell me you're shipping me off to Grandma's house! MY GOD! I'm a freaking adult and can't make my own choices!" before I could control my anger, I threw a glass cup against the wall and watched it shatter in to tiny pieces. A part of me wishing I hadn't and the other part telling me to throw another cup in her face.
"THIS IS WHY! THIS IS WHY" my mother's words screamed in my head over and over just like that scenario played in my head over and over again on the plane. My head was resting against the plane window and I watched the clouds pass me by. A social worker was sitting next to me the whole plane trip. She was an older woman with a serious look on her face the whole time she escorted me. I was trouble and I needed to be babysat. No one other than my harsh grandmother to watch her adult grandchild with anger issues; pathetic.
I hear a ding and the following, "The seat belt signs are on and we will soon be descending on to the ground here- -blah blah" I drowned out the noise by putting my headphones in and pulling up my hood so the stupid stewardess wouldn't tell me to take them off because we're landing.
I feel a tap on my shoulder and the social worker indicates to my ears and that I should take them off. I roll my eyes and do so because I'm already in big trouble as it is. "Fuck you guys suck," I whispered as I glared at the window.
"Excuse you," the lady responded with a following, "ungrateful child," under her breath.
"You know, it's ridiculous how old my grandmother is. She was 30 when I was born and my mother was 14 when she had me with my father being 40, who was my grandmother's current squeeze at the time after her going through—oh 22-ish or so boyfriends- That means my grandma was 16 when she popped my mother out of her vagina. I'm grateful that I made it to 22 years old without popping five children out. So, I'm not ungrateful, you blunt bitch."
The lady heaved a sigh, ignoring the fact that I called her a bitch and that I deemed my mother and grandmother as sluts.
"I just don't understand how such a beautiful young girl has such a filthy mouth."
"I blame the mother, she's 36 years old. It's like living with a sister who's a giant gold digger. How else do you think she paid for my care?" I chuckled.
The plane landed and I waited impatiently to make it to the airport of Dublin. I loved new cities, but I did not love my grandmother that was waiting patiently for me as I walked out of the gate. She had her arms crossed around a red leather jacket which had a bustier top under it and some leather pants along with high heels: first class whore-bag in the house. Compared to what I was wearing: a zip up red jacket, jeans and grey converse; she was a whore. I walked up to her, no hug and no happy greetings.
"Well, there's the little bitch," was the first words she said to me.
"Jeez, grandma, it's been like 10 years and that's the first thing you say to me?"
"SSSHHHH, don't call me 'grandma'" – she whispered frantically—"Call me by my name, Meredith."
"Slut-bag-hoe-pants?"
"Seriously, I need a cigarette…" she rubbed her forehead and directed me to baggage claim as she walked over to a coffee stand to grab a coffee.
I sauntered over to the baggage claim and waited for my black suitcase to pop up. As I was, I noticed how Dublin was filled with gorgeous guys. One in particular was staring at me directly in the eyes. I raised an eyebrow and he smiled. He was a handsome fella, one that captivated my gaze immediately: dark curly hair that he kept passed his ears, a deep dark gaze and good fashion sense: you can never resist the plaid shirts.
My bag caught my attention as I quickly reached out and pulled it off the conveyer belt. I walked away, ignoring the guy now because I didn't want to waste my time with men here. I planned on leaving Dublin soon. I was going to push my grandmother –I mean Cathleen- - to the brink.
I see Cathleen waiting patiently with coffee in both of her hands. She handed me one and turned to walk out of the airport with me pulling my suitcase behind me. "You got any smokes?" she asked. I shook my head and sipped at the delicious dark coffee, feeling a bit of relief from it.
"Shit now I will have to stop at the store. I thought you smoked?"
"That's your daughter, Cathleen, not me." I reminded her.
"Oh yeah, my mistake; I get you two confused because you're both equally stupid."
"Gee thanks, Grandma—"
"What the hell, Meredith, did you not hear me earlier. I am not grandma, I am Cathleen."
"Sorry, Gran—I mean slut—I mean bitch-Shit, I keep getting mom and you mixed up too."
We got into her car, a shiny red 69 charger, and I inhaled the beautiful scent of car leather. "Damn, Cathleen, you know how to pick a ride," I give her kudos this time.
"Shit, Mere, you have no idea," she pulls out of the parking spot like a professional driver and races off down the street, speeding like the demon she is.
I guess I was a little bit lucky to get this trip because Dublin was one of the most beautiful cities I had seen in a while. It wasn't like Seattle at all, more folky and less industrial, but still had the urban taste to it. The sight-seeing was cut short though because Cathleen stopped by a store and dragged me along inside. I put my headphones in and my hood up and walked in a different direction as her. She already knows she can reach my on my cellphone when she's done getting her smokes and whatever she needs. I made my way to the alcohol section of the store and look for the usual choice: vodka. I pick up a bottle and walk towards the front to purchase, but I stop dead in my tracks. I noticed the same guy from the airport and he's looking at beer. Before I make a quick getaway, he sees me.
He smiles, "Are you stalkin' me?" his Irish accent would make any girls pants fly off. Not mine, not today.
"Yeah totally, after I watched you leave I managed to follow you to your car which I made my grandmother follow in a high pursuit. First class stalker, of course," I opened the bottle and took a swig.
His eyebrows raised and he looked around the store, "Yer doin' that in public?"
"You work here or something?"
"No, but it just seems odd fer someone to be takin' a drink in a public market."
"Aaah, so you're the alcohol police," I smiled.
He smiles back. "Not really," he picked up his beer.
"Are you drinking that by yourself?" I questioned.
"No, I'm goin' to be seein' my girlfriend tonight."
"Oooooh," I took another swig. "All the hot Irish boys have their hot Irish girls to drink their Irish beer. Maybe if you get sick and tired of her, you'll come take a drink with an American girl with her German vodka." My empty stomach wasn't helping with the alcohol because it affected me faster than I thought. I needed to shut up.
"Maybe," he turned to walk away; completely turned off by my approach.
I shrugged and gulped down a few more drinks before my phone rang.
"Are you done?" I answered the phone.
"Yeah, get your ass up here."
Before I walked up to the counter, I stuffed the vodka in my bag and watched as that guy left with his purchase; he was staring back at me, clearly not too turned off. I walked passed Cathleen, ignoring her and went outside to follow him this time.
"Maybe I am a stalker. What's your name?" I was curious.
"Aidan. What's your name?" he had a big smile, a beautiful smile at that.
"Meredith. Don't forget it. I know you have a girlfriend and all, but…take my number?" I offered, feeling the vodka confidence stream out of my mouth.
"I have a girlfriend."
"We can be friends. I'll be here for a while."
"I'm not going to."
"Why's that?"
"My career keeps me moving."
"Hm, what career is that- -"
"Meredith, already flirting with the locals, are we?" I see Cathleen walking over with a cigarette hanging out of her mouth and a brown bag in her arms.
"Scratch that. My GRANDMOTHER likes to keep me from having friends," I walked passed Aidan and over to the car and attempted to get in; unfortunately it was locked.
"It's Cathleen. I- I'm not her grandmother of course," she chuckles nervously, acting extremely flirty to Aidan. He smiles back at her, obviously being polite. "She has problems that Meredith; I wouldn't waste my time on her. That's why she's here you know- - "
"GRANDMA SHUT UP AND GET IN THE CAR ALREADY BEFORE I GET TOO HAMMERED TO GET INSIDE YOUR HOUSE!"
"Excuse me, hot stuff," she winks at him and walks over to the car. "I fucking told you not to call me grandma! Do you ever listen to me? No! You're just as bad as your mother, maybe worse! Agh, how are you drunk anyway?" she unlocks the car and we both get in simultaneously. She pulls out, leaving Aidan in the parking lot looking extremely confused as to what just happened.