all that,just for a fuckin orange.

went into my local tesco express last night on the way to work,
as i do EVERY night,
regular as clockwork.
2 oranges,bar of chocolate,mail and milk.
i enjoy a couple of squares on the bus to work,
but more importantly,
i DO love my oranges,
and hate starting the night without one.
"it's vitamin C,keep the colds at bay,"
i tell them at work.

well anyway,
i caught my bus to work.
my work-bag was quite full last night,
pack-up,
jumper,
milk etc.
with my oranges,
clearly visible on top.

i got of the bus in a bit of a rush,
almost missed my stop,
coat over one arm,
bag in hand,
and newspaper.
i put down in the shelter to sort myself out,
and gasp!
shock!
horror!
jesus!
fuck!
bllx!
no oranges,
they'd some how rolled out of my bag on the bus,
i searched my bag,
emptied it actually,
they definitely weren't there.
i'd left them to the sweeper-uppers.
hope they fuckin choke on 'em.
angry,
irked,
doesn't come close.
my oranges.
my fuckin oranges.

i could go to the big tesco that i walk past every night,
but i have my routine,
it's a nice routine.
walk into work at about 8.50.
put a cup of water in the microwave,
ding!
make a cup of tea,
eat an orange,
(my orange,my lovely orange,i know how golan felt.
"my precious" ).
watch a bit of telly,
eat a sandwich,
peruse the headers in the mail,
take in,
and absorb general chatter from co-workers,
always the same shit,
"it's a fuckin mess down there".
"if you haven't clocked in eric,don't."
"it's all bollux ennit,don't stand a fuckin chance".
"blah'blah."
"boo'hoo."

whatever.

i couldn't not have my oranges.
and i really didn't want to go into tesco's.
my routine,
my lovely,
my comfortable,,
regular,
PREDICTABLE,
routine.
it's like an old pair of slippers.
well,fuck it i thought,
tesco's here i come.

so,
i marched down the hill cursing.
seething.
mother fucker.
bollux!
cnut!

so i get into tesco's,
self-service zealot hovvering.
and i'm thinking.
"don't even think about it".
images of zealot struggling to walk,
with 2 oranges rammed firmly where the sun doesn't shone.
"just fuckin don't.okay?"
she didn't.

so,
off to the fruit 'nd veggies,
oranges,
YES!

right,
i rush back down the aisle,
through the freezer section,
and what's that i see on the floor?
looking all lost and forlorn.
a ten pound note.
ahhh!
there'there'there.
come to daddy.
YES!
everything has a reason,
i tell myself.

feeling better now.

get to check-outs,
and they're all heaving,
but i don't care,
life aint so bad.

then the woman in front,
lets me go in front of her.
YES!again.
"are you sure you don't mind".
"nah,go on,i'll be ages with this lot".
the old man smiled,and looked on.
"thank you".
"thank you very much".
i beamed.

and so off to work i trotted.
oranges safely in my coat pockets.
and trousers a tenner to the good.

and i gotta get to asda's.

Excellent

happy days.

it's funny,
in the right frame of mind,
i can ramble on for ages.

moved by the moment.

Strictly speaking you're up a tenner less your two orange stake, Eric.

You could be a Conservative MP with that staking plan

NotBert wrote:Strictly speaking you're up a tenner less your two orange stake, Eric.

You could be a Conservative MP with that staking plan

not a bad return though.