Its the little things in life that get me riled. The big things I get angsty about and then move on. The little things gnaw at me.
Example: on Saturday morning I had to hotfoot it out of bed in order to feed the parking meter before the car turned into a pumpkin. A parking clamp shaped pumpkin. My companion murmered sleepily from beneath the warm duvet: "Where are you going?", a question to which the correct answer was: "To bring you fresh croissants, orange-juice squeezed by hand from the finest fruit and a fragrant bouquet of flowers" rather than my "I gotta stick money in the meter before that evil minded bastard of a warden clamps my car. There's coke in the fridge" while hopping around the bedroom with one foot trapped in a hitherto unknown fold of my pants (as is the comedy requirement for such occasions.)
I could see the yellow day-glo jacket of doom bearing down on my poor car as I hobbled towards the paying machine. I was close, oh so close, when an elderly lady appeared in front of the meter. She studied the machine as if in shock that she was going to have to put money in it in order to get a ticket. And then she began the ritual hunt for the change in her purse (perfected in supermarkets around the world where she will have watched her purchases being scanned at the checkout and then reacted with surprise when asked to pay.)
Actually, a lot of the transportation problems of the world today could be solved if scientists studied the way in which little old ladies always, ALWAYS appear in front of you as you march towards an empty checkout in the supermarket. I did an experiment a while ago - I went to a 24 hour supermarket at about 2am, and reached the empty checkout. I looked left, and then right - no other customers. I looked forward and foom! There she was - fumbling for money-off vouchers that were patently wrong for the goods she was purchasing. In front of me.
They must know of some way of slipping between realms of reality, travelling through worm-holes from one check-out to another in the blink of a rheumy eye. The side effect of which is to smell faintly of cabbage or wee.
There was a point to this post, but it appears to have been lost in the rant above. Suffice to say I won that round of cat and mouse with the traffic warden and bought flowers on my way back to the house. Difficult not to, I live next door to a florist. On the other side is a lingerie shop, but that way leads madness (and possibly blindness.)
Goodnight...
