It was 7 a.m. when I arrived in Dublin, and I looked greasy, unrested, and ready to hurl after the vegetarian Indian curry that was my in-flight 3 a.m. "dinner." I unhappily waited my turn through customs and prepared for the official behind the plexiglass panel to ask me the standard questions. I answered the gentleman with the demeanour of a zombie, but suddenly perked up when he made a cheerful, sing-song assumption I wasn't expecting:
"You're here to meet a man!"
I denied his assertion with several tries and laughter, but he Read More ›