This morning, after queuing for ages at 8am the Brixton Post Office collection depot with a whole load of other sleepy heads, which made me late, the traffic was terrible so in order to avoid sharing the Chelsea embankment with the hoards of green-warrior yummy mummies (some of whom are probably my clients) and their scootering, cycling, blazer wearing, organic fed sproglets I did my usual trick of weaving between the almost stationary cars to get to work on time.
Suddenly a splash of wet hit me, covered my head, face and chest and even my legs. In the heat of the moment I thought it couldn't possibly be what I thought it was, maybe it was just bird crap (bad enough). It wasn't. It was spittle. I turned round to see the driver of a van smirking.
I then had to cycle for another 15 mins before I could srcub myself clean.
So to that disgusting imbecile pikey van driver, thanks for making me feel so gross. You are a disgrace to yourself, your sex and all van drivers out there.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment