…and as I walk down the aisle, I can’t remember what it was I wanted.
The light is piercing; this florescent bully drives the drill hard between my eyes, exacerbating my already grinding headache. All I can think of is the end of the world and how it will look exactly like this… a Tesco Express open 24/7.
It’s just another one in the morning full of sad lonely bastards, drunks fighting to the last breath for more booze and ditzy giggly couples playing their happy fantasy, mistakenly believing their primal sexual urge is unique or worse still actual happiness. It is neither.
To be perfectly honest it is not the constant threat of being dragged into a drunken brawl that concerns me most, it is this group of students standing in front of me, watching me. One of them nudges another when I get a scotch egg from the chilled section, they half try to hide their mocking laughter when they see me get take the chocolate milk and it suddenly makes sense; it’s all so obvious now.
I am just another sad lonely bastard in suit.
Thursday, August 24, 2006
A very short story about a realisation
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4 comments:
And you've only just realised this? Stop feeling sorry for yourself, you miserable old bugger. Was lovely to see you for dinner this evening, by the way!
hip hip hurahh~!!!!
That's why I never wear suits. I could only ever afford wonky looking off the peg jobs.
I wouldn't mind some tweed jodphurs, but people might laugh.
What the hell is a scotch egg?
Egads that was depressing. now that I'm not a teenager or "young adult" anymore, I understand why everyone hated me when I was.
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