5 September 2008: Dublin, Ireland

I woke up early on Friday and went down the street to the hostel where Roy had told me to come back to. Roy wasn't there, but the guy who was said I needed to submit a resume. It beats the hell out of me why you would need a resume to prove that you're qualified to sit behind a desk and tell people if there is a bed available, just as it beats the hell out of me HOW you would prove you're qualified to do so. But, either way, if I wasn't getting a job in this place at this time without a resume, I wasn't getting one ever.

So I headed to the internet cafe (€1/hour, which is pretty much as good as you could possibly find) and made myself a resume.

For occupation I credited myself with working in a hostel I had stayed at for a week in Vancouver a couple years ago. The girl in the London hostel had said that previous experience working in hostels was very important, and I didn't think that Ben and Jerry's and the Clean Water Action would exactly put my resume over the top even if that weren't the case. Plus, I figured that since it was so long ago, and in a different continent, I was safe from detection. Hey, no harm no foul, right? It's a dog-eat-dog world out there.

So I printed out three copies of my lovely new resume and brought one to the hostel I had just left and one to a hostel at the other end of my street, one that was much more youth/backpacker-oriented. Unlike the shit-crater I was staying in.

Speaking of the shit-crater, it was raining pretty bad and I didn't feel like carrying my pack around town finding a better alternative, so I went back and booked myself another night. This time for €15, since it was the weekend, but this price was still at least €5 less than every other hostel. I figured one more night wouldn't kill me.

But I also thought that two more nights might. So I wrapped up the final copy of my resume in a newspaper so it wouldn't get ruined in the rain and I headed to the "official" international youth hostel, figuring that if any hostel in town would offer work-to-stay opportunities it would be this one.

I was right about that much, at least, because they had applications readily available. But that also meant, I'm guessing, that a lot of people would have applied before me.

The girl at the desk said that it was almost required that you stay at the hostel in order to be able to work there, but every night at this hostel was €22. Which is, needless to say, absolutely ridiculous. So I had a choice to make.

On the one hand, the only way to work at this place would be to live there, and €7 extra a night wouldn't be the end of me for only a few days, assuming I got work after a few days. Plus, there were people hanging out, which was absolutely not the case at my place.

But, on the other hand, there was no guarantee for work and, even then, there were probably loads of people ahead of me in the priority list. Also, since it was only Friday, it wasn't like it'd be so hard to have fun regardless of where I ended up.

So what I decided to do was wait it out until Sunday, when the rates would hopefully go down and it would be more imperative to be in a social setting.

Then I had what I guess qualified as lunch-dinner. €1.50 for a package of ham and a baguette. Let's just call this the ham and baguette deluxe. To save time.

It was still raining and, honestly, miserable by this point so I went back to the hostel and took quite literally a four-hour nap. Damn was it nice.

When I woke up there was a note from Joel saying that he had gone to get some beer and would be back. I mention this only because it embodies the "sans cell phone" aspect of this adventure. I'm honestly pretty excited about being cut off from telephone communication, not because I don't like talking on the phone or because I think it's annoying or unpristine or anything, but because I think it's going to be fun to have to make plans and leave notes for people in order to see anyone. At least, it will make things more interesting than simply being able to call someone up.

When Joel came back empty-handed, we headed back out to the supermarket and got some beer. I went for the international flavor, getting an Irish beer, an Australian beer, a Czech beer, and an American beer, all of it for under €5. As Joel put it, "we're drinking on a budget but having a flipping taste test." Indeed.

Back at the hostel we enjoyed our beer downstairs in the kitchen and met a couple Italian dudes, Mauro and Gabriel. It was their first night in the hostel and they had already decided to leave in the morning because the place was such a shit-crater, but they were pretty nice. And, I'm telling you, that was the most sociability that place had seen in a week, I'm not even kidding.

(To top things off, before leaving the hostel Joel and I met a couple Czech girls, Nellie and Barbara, who were total cuties and, according to Joel, "keen." We didn't run into them again that night, but they were the first girls I had seen in the hostel in two days. Unbelievable.)

Joel and I and the Italians went to the Australian bar from the previous night, which was pretty much more of the same: a bunch of Australians and New Zealanders, with some other Europeans, and hardly any locals. But those same €9.50 jugs, which can't be beat. And Joel got offered a job there, which if he ended up getting would hopefully mean free drinks for yours truly. A guy can dream.

The Italians weren't really that into the pub scene, and didn't stay out too long. Then Joel and I met a couple Polish girls, since apparently they flock to this place, but they were pretty bogus and the night didn't exactly take off.

Then sleep. Pretty anti-climatic, huh?