Learning a lesson the hard way
They say that wisdom comes with old age.
Hah!
I had to go down to the village today. Now I don’t know what happened in my befuddled confused brain but I had the ridiculous notion that the village may be somewhat approaching normality. Crazy, isn’t it? I don’t know where I got that deluded idea from, but anyway I went down with a light heart.
Fucking chaos! Mayhem! Crowds of people thronging the footpaths and the road itself. What seemed like hundreds of horrible little girls all wearing their pink fairy princess frocks and queuing to be photographed in front of the main building [Town Hall? Castle? Do I give a shit?]. It also seemed to be a day-trip from some obesity clinic – Bellies and arses swinging all over the place. Of course I got into a bad mood and kept stepping in front of people taking photographs. I could hear them cursing as they had to take another shot behind me. Heh! There will probably be dozens of photographs of me on Farcebook now but I don’t care. I never look at Farcebook anyway.
Naturally parking was chaotic. I took my usual spot which involved ploughing through some of their fucking traffic cones. Sod them.
I got what I went for and hoofed it back as quickly as possible.
I’m home now and very sadly the wiser.
And the coffee shop is still closed.
Photo bombing is not as much fun since the digital takeover.
With good old film the victim would not discover the perpetrator until weeks later.
True enough. Now everyone thinks they're the new David Bailey. God be with the days when you had to think long and hard before using up that precious roll of film.
I appreciate the post itself but gave it one lousy star. The awful rating actually had nothing to do with the post, and everything to do with your experience.
Do you suppose the place will ever be the same or is forever tainted by Disney?
On your one start rating? Not to worry, I gave it a 4 just to offset it. Now it's a solid 2 and a half.
First day of the school holidays! Not a day to go anywhere.
My heart goes out to you, Grandad. I mean, at least your coffee shop could be open for all the aggravation. Oh, and I'll be looking for you on Farcebook. There's nothing like a good photo-bombing run is there?