I could sense today was going to be another one of those days, at about 11 o clock this morning I heard a knock at the door, Now it's very rare I answer the door, Usually someone beats me to it. But today I was in pole position, I beat the other 4 members of the house to the door.
Now when answering the door I expect to see a wide variety of potential callers; Postmen, Neighbours, Friends, The Grim Reaper , You Know the usual candidates. But not this morning, This morning when I answered the door there was a biggish woman, Beige Jacket, Brown sensible legnth skirt, Woolen scarf, You know the sort. She'd brought a Child with her; Possibly her daughter, possibly not. But either way I was now stood face to face with a dull woman and someones child.
She paused, I paused it was quite awkward. Then she Introduced herself, I didn't catch her name or that of the child, But it turns out she was a Jehovas Witness.
"Oh, Him Nice to meet you " I said
"Oh Bloody hell, Sod off" I thought.
But I didn't say that, Well I couldn't really, She had already started talking at me, I thought about interrupting and telling her 'I'm not interested and that she should go away' But I caught a glimpse of the small childs huge glowing smile and my Concience said "You can't say that you Bastard".
So I didn't I told the woman I didn't believe in God, In the vain hope it would make her go away (Even if she did come back later to torch the house). She didn't go away, She just kept talking at me, And Like a lonely, Friend starved fool, I kept listening. She gave me A leaflet, Which is yet to be read, But Hopefully there's a section In it that will tell me which coulour Bin i'm allowed to put it in.
After my attempted conversion to God I had to go to a supermarket, Which is the most Ironically named structure ever, They might as well call it the 'Jam packed full of idiots who have nothing better to do than stand and maul fruit market'. I only had to get wrapping paper, Which in itself is an expensive mine field of Rolls, Sheets and Glitter.
When I arrived in the Super Market car park my first thought was 'My, Isn't it busy in here today' That should have been my warning, That should have made me turn around and leave, But no, As with the Virgin Mary earlier in the day I didn't act quickly enough. And before I knew it I was trapped in the Foyer of the store, A concentration camp of Baskets, Security Gaurds, and Bored Husbands. Oh and the hoodie, waiting for a Happy Slap oppertunity.
Once I'd glided my way into the 'market' area of the store, I was surrounded, Like a timid acid trip, Every where I turned there was Pensioners, Headscarves to the Left, Crimplene to the right, Edna's and Ethels blocking Aisle's chatting away about weather and death. I didn't realise I'd gone to the Shops on the Annual Bring a pensioner to the supermarket day. It just goes to show you, You wake up expecting to get wrapping paper, But you end up with Jesus, A mildly bruised Avacado, and A smell of Old spice and smoked kippers
