Do I look like a fecking truck driver?

While the dress code here in Clare may be a little more relaxed than in EC2, one tries to maintain a certain standard. In pursuit of this goal, I visited my barber in Ennistymon today – not just any old barber but a transplanted Dub who has helped me to understand the vagaries of the Irish economy and political life over the last few months.
As I left Ed’s place, on my way to meet Linda, I was accosted by the driver of a late model Mercedes saloon – apparently the owner of a local hotel – who was upset by a parked truck which was blocking access to his driveway. In response to the question “are you the driver of that truck?” I regret that I could manage nothing better than the response above.