Let Us Eat Pie

There was a rugby match on. They are going to get trashed and customers were not happy. It's too noisy and I had no place to park with my sarny. Paul's watching the game and I couldn't be bothered to bug him while fat boys yell at lumpy players in white and red uniforms.

 

Shall I just chug a lager in the corner while munching prawn mayo on brown? I stood in the bar and frowned. Was it a 1 wonderful idea to do that before driving back to home? I was sure Paul would find that a liability. Um, not that I cared about that.

 

It was a funny day. More than half of people ordered steak and ale pies, one of which gave me a French lesson, then so many people had Banoffee pies for the afters. It was not that cold, that day, but you could smell the winter in the air. I bet all of these people got up in the morning and felt like brisk walks in woods, before coming to us for hearty pies and tooth melting banana pies. If it wasn't for the free sarny, I would have done the same.

 

No, actually, no, I still would. Why don't I just stuff my face with cream and banana, to sooth weeping soul of mine. I turned to my boss and said,

"Hey, boss, would you give me a giant cup of tea, if I buy your famous Banoffee pie?"

He replied,

"Hey, why don't you work for a bit longer and I will buy you the pie. In that way I get to watch Chelsea play"

 

Deal. Done and sealed. I mentally shook his hand and stayed for 30 min.

 

Rugby viewers were getting quiet. Well, RSA was good. Even I knew that. And boss was long gone. I guess Chelsea was kicking some arse to lose Liverpool for good.

 

In the end I sat down with a piece of pie filled with browned condensed milk and cream with some bananas, and was weeping from the eyes with joy. The pie was SO sweet and nevertheless mind numbing, my soul was now laughing.

 

Paul snuck up on me and stood by me, looking smilingly at my ecstatic face, and muttered something about the match. Then said,

"So, you had a row with your mother?"

"Ohh, yessir, I hate my mum."

"Oh no, you don't."

 

Thus it went. Anyway. It was nice of him. It was a lovely afternoon over all. What a difference a pie and a pal make. Thank ya all.

No!!

I can't go on, I had enough, this shouldn't be the way, I just want to forget everything, just want to go away, why am I ill and why should I be penalized for it, am having a worst month of this year and it's tough and who fuck cares its already tomorrow, fuck my boss, fuck the economy, fuck the lottery and fuck my flatmate, fuck my ex, fuck. Just fuck off.

Yes!!

"Don't you ever get tired of bitching about that work you hate so much? Why don't you just quit your job and get a new one if you are that unhappy?"

Well, my mum did not raise me to be a quitter, but did raise me a moaner. I can complain but I won't quit. Quitters are worse than losers. I can continue to be a loser but will not quit being a loser.

But, hey, maybe, just maybe, that IS the answer. Maybe I should just quit. I HATE my job. I hate my life while working that job. I HATE my bosses and everyone around them, and I HATE the fact they all hate me and that I am making them do that.

YES! I am moving. I am going to the states. Sorry, US, you have to take this scum of puss of inhumanbeing because UK had enough of it. YES, I am coming, it's decided!!