Naturally, I got soaked on the way - it wasn't actually raining when I left, so I foolishly didn't take anything waterproof. This drenching was vastly increased by the utter f*cktard in his van who saw me valiantly battling against the winds, waiting to cross the road, swerved into a massive puddle and shouted "Dirty Goth!" at me as he sped by.
Thanks, buddy.
I arrived at my destination on time and dripping all over the floor of S**** T******* UK to be told, rather unceremoniously, that the meeting was cancelled. Nobody had bothered to let me know.
Wonderful.
I walked outside to begin my journey home and paused to roll a cigarette in the shelter of the doorway. My rizla were of course wet through.
FUCK SAKE.
It's been one of those days, you know? The Universe sometimes sends good stuff your way and other times, it's busy with other people and you go forgotten.
Ah, well. To be honest, I'm not really complaining (especially since I got home and got dried and drank some lovely hot apple juice with ginger wine in it!) because the Universe has been pretty kind to me recently; I've won several little competitions, netting myself a free t-shirt and a lovely necklace and overall, life is pretty good. Today was just a blip.
1 comment:
Clearly white van man (I assume both he and the van were white and a bit grubby looking) didn't splosh you by accident. Don't worry about it though, unpleasant twats quite often get back what they put into the universe. I expect the shaved ape will end badly. Probably by slipping on some ice, rolling under his van unconscious and freezing to death after a dog urinates on him.
Or something.
What I want to know was how he could read your mind and tell that you were dirty. I'm astonished that a stranger could tell just by looking at you. Still kudos for giving off the right "filthy" aura. I've been working at it myself but all I ever seem to manage is "sleazy".
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