|Steve Edwards' website|
Kilkenny, Ireland, November 2001
Kilkenny is a small town. Well, it's a town. A small city. The debate rages on. By ancient charter, it's a city. But the atmosphere is decidedly small-town.
Kilkenny is a trusting place. At the hostel where I first stayed, the desk is unattended at night.
I got a job without using a resume. I cash my check at a supermarket without showing my identification.
On the radio, I heard the announcement last week that somebody had found money at the Market Cross parking lot.... "If you lost money at the Market Cross car park, give this station a ring."
I cashed my check at supervalu [a supermarket] as suggested by L_ , a coworker at Lautrec's. He'd said to have them give him a call if I had any problem, but that I probably wouldn't.
They cashed it, without a problem, and without asking to see my identification.
At work the next evening, L_ said he'd spoken with a guy named John, who had told him the American had been in and "changed his cheque."
"You know you're in a small town now," said another co-worker.... "Next week it'll be in the Kilkenny People" (the local newspaper.)