Scene: A computer centre in Dublin in the year 2000. IT programmers and specialists of every sort wander by, deep in thought about their latest projects.
A sixty-something painter, a working class Dublin man, tries to say hello to one or two of them but gets no reply. He turns to me, a mere receptionist and general dogsbody, and says:
"There's a city in Malta called Mdina. They call it the silent city. This place reminds me of it. They wouldn't say hello, goodbye or kiss me arse...I've never seen anything like it!"
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