I arrived home from work tonight at around 6pm for Attila the Wife to ask me to drive to the local supermarket to get a loaf of vaguely specialty bread for her to use in the making of dinner.
"Oh for fuck's sake, what a colossal embuggerance. I just wanted to slump on the couch and wish I was dead for a while. The supermarket? Really? You must fucking hate me."
Spend five minutes looking for my wallet, only for Attila the Wife to find it in the trouser pocket of the shorts I was wearing in the weekend. Attila then completely unable to suppress a look of smug triumph.
"Shut up. I fucking hate you."
"Shut up. I fucking hate you."
Stomp to car. Reverse out of driveway only to have to wait for old lady in motorised shopping trolley, white knuckles clutching at her steering wheel in fear, to drive past at 5 miles an hour."Hurry up you stupid fucking whore!"
Now following at five miles an hour then waiting at a quiet intersection for her to decide which way she's going to turn and then for another two minutes while she waits for the car that is five hundred metres away to pass by.
"Oh my good fucking God! How have you not been beaten to death by a queue of traffic yet! Fuck! My! Life! Where the fuck is Morgan Freeman when you need him?"
Drive up to narrow chicane and dutifully wait for on-coming van to drive through. On-coming van driven by dreadlocked hippy lady meanders up to chicane and then stops just short to let me through despite me having waited for her.
"Jesus fucking Christ almighty, what the fucking hell is wrong with you?! Have those shitlocks piled on your stupid fucking head caused your brain to overheat?! Fuck me, why aren't you in a commune somewhere in fucking Bolivia! Fuck off and die."
Drive through traffic lights and then straight through roundabout, noticing both cars in front didn't indicate when exiting.
"Am I the only fucking person in creation that obeys the fucking road rules? Bastards."
Approach supermarket, notice Christmas decorations in adjoining shop windows with smiling stock-photo families smiling inanely.
"Fuck off you bastards. I hope someone finds a pipe-bomb under the fucking tree."
Enter supermarket. Walk through fruit and veg section, scowl at other dreadlocked hippy lady.
"I hate all you hippy bastards."
Get detained near butchery counter by woman with a horde of children, all dithering idly through aisle.
"Hurry UP you bastards! Why couldn't you keep your legs together you stupid fucking trollop. Fucking hurry UP!"
Finally get clear only to nearly get cleaned out by some wanker coming out of a bisecting aisle who doesn't even apologise and then runs into another trolley rounding the aisle-end.
 |
| Ha. Not this time. Or any other time. |
"Arsehole."
Locate bread. Find only bread that almost meets but falls just short of Attila's expectations. It might as well be mouldy, baked by Hitler and be in Sri Lanka. Grab the least worst and turn, only to be cut off by a large, puffy, tattooed, female Bogan-thing.
"Ugh. Look what you've done to yourself. Underneath that thick layer of greasy white fat is a thin, un-tattoed person but sadly is still a fucking idiot."
Get to check-outs only for the dreadlocked hippy lady to take the only free one with her half-full shopping trolley, oblivious to the fact I have only one item.
"What's yellow and red and looks good on hippies? Fire."
Pay for my item and walk up to self-opening doors. Doors only start to open when about a foot and a half away.
"Just another fucking thing to add to the litany of inconveniences deliberately put in my way by the rest of mankind."
Start to move through middle of door, only to be obstructed by a horde of other people coming the other way who cannot think far enough ahead to look through the doorway to see if there is anyone in their path or to think about maybe making some space for them.
"What am I, fucking invisible?!"
"Let me through, I'm a doctor."
Move to car, reverse out of carpark and drive toward carpark exit. Shitbox car stops ahead of me on the other side of the driveway, lets out passenger and then within twenty metres of me, does a U-turn, forcing me to stop suddenly."What sort of fucking arsehole are you, you fucking arsehole! As long as you're alright you stupid fucking shitbrained ring-sausage dickhead wanker!"
Muttering in this manner went on for as long as this car was within eyesight. Finally lose sight of this vehicle and turn off to my street. Avoid four wheel drive on wrong side of road driven by contractor who has a phone up to his ear.
"Oh my, aren't we important, you selfish bastard!"
Pull into driveway. Sit dejected and scowling, overcome because of the recognition that as I get older, there will be more and more that the world offers me that will confuse, irritate and outrage me. Car door opened by Attila who asks if a cuddle would make me feel better.
No. I need a gallon of rum and a taser for when I'm next out in public. That'll make me feel better.
Incidentally, the bread wasn't right either.
