What a complete fucking waste of an afternoon off. All I wanted to do was walk to the pub and have a couple of pints on my own before my wife got home. Easy, you may think.
I finished work at 1230. All I needed to do was pay a bill for my Nan at the Post Office and then I was free to go to the pub. I drove from work, in Stockport, to Tottington, where my Nan lives. Traffic wasn't great and I got there about 1330. You can't park next to the Post Office, there are double-yellow lines, so I parked round the corner. About 5 minutes walk away. As it was pissing it down, I grabbed my brolly and walked to the Post Office. There was a woman stood outside the door, so I said "excuse me" and tried to walk past to open the door. "Oh no, they shut at dinner", she said. I was not impressed, but asked when they opened again. It was 1330, can't be that long to wait. Especially as there is a woman already stood outside. Turns out they shut for dinner between 1300 and 1400. Why the fuck was she stood there then?! Was she really going to fucking stand there for another half an hour?! Or was she the woman who worked in the Post Office just being an awkward dick?! I don't know, but I wasn't hanging around to find out. And another thing, who shuts a shop for dinner these days? It's 2012! Not 1832! And AN HOUR?! A whole fucking hour?! I don't even take close to an hour for my dinner and I do a real job that doesn't involve sitting behind a counter handing pieces of paper over for other pieces of paper. I trudged back to my car, in the pissing rain, and drove home.
I had some soup for my dinner. It was very nice. It was Heinz Cream of Tomato soup. It was the highlight of my fucking day. I got changed and decided to venture out again. I drove back to the Post Office in Tottington, again, near my Nan's. I parked around the corner, again, and walked with my brolly, again, in the pissing fucking rain, again, to the Post Office, again. This time it was open. Thank the fucking Baby Jesus! It was a different lady behind the counter, to the one who had been stood outside. I can't fault the service one bit. She was very nice and very helpful. I paid the bill and walked back to my car, in the pissing rain, again. I drove to my Nan's and gave her the pieces of paper. We had a chat for a bit about stuff and then I set off home to achieve my amazingly easy goal of having a walk to the pub for a couple of pints before my wife got home from work.
I got home and parked my car and was about to set off walking to the pub. I looked out of the window. Still fucking pissing it down. The pub is about 30 mins walk away. I would be fucking drenched by the time I reached the pub. Fine. I would get the bus. They are every 10 minutes on the main road. I'd be in the pub in 15 minutes, tops. I put on a hat and waked the 5 mins, in the pissing rain, to the bus stop. Fortunately the bus stop has a shelter, so I didn't get any wetter. There was an elderly lady stood at the bus stop. She seemed very nice and friendly and kept speaking to me. I didn't encourage conversation, but was polite and spoke back when she spoke to me. When she spoke to herself, or thin fucking air, I kept quiet. I think the medical term would be "a little fucking odd". But as I say, she was friendly enough, and harmless. The bus was due in a couple of minutes and I would just sit elsewhere on the bus from her and all would be well. I would also ignore the fact she had just put her brolly up whilst stood under a bus shelter.
30 minutes passed.
No bus.
30. Fucking. Minutes.
No. Fucking. Bus.
Plenty of the bastards going the other way. But none going my way. It then occurred to me it was chucking out time at the schools and there is a high school at the top of the road. The bus would be full of the little fuckers and that was obviously the reason there were no buses. All the buses that were arriving were delayed by dozens of spotty youths, playing shite music through their phones, trying to get on. And also monumentally succeeding in ruining my fucking afternoon!
After a while I looked at my watch. 4 o'clock. For fucks sake! 4 o-fucking-clock. Sharon finishes at half past. And there's still no bastard bus! The whole thing is a fucking shambles! There's no point making the fucking trip to the pub now. I'll only have to turn round and come home again straight away. What cock up! What a fucking bastard cunting cock up!!!
I grumpily walked back home and made a cup of tea. Then blasted this ranty blog into my computer. I hope you find it entertaining. Or not. Couldn't give a fuck.
At least my Nan will still have gas and electric next week.
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