I had an absolute cunt of a day in work today. Approaching deadlines, encroaching work experience students, technical glitches, bureaucratic hitches. A ton of stupid shit that needs to be sorted, oh, some time last week. And I looked like I was having one of those days in work, too. I'd gotten up late this morning having gone to bed last night with damp hair, leaving me with a do like an extra from the Lion King. Jeans, blah jumper, grumpy scowl. Hot. I headed out late morning to do a few things around the village. Get my boots fixed after wearing the heels off them at the weekend, pick up my medication, buy some lunch. And returned half an hour later perplexed but much cheered.
First to the cobbler's; a cheeky redheaded chap as befits his profession. So when would you like to come back and see me? Cue a quizzical look from me (surely he can't be flirting with me?) and then an embarrassed pause from him. Come back, I mean - to collect your boots?
Then to the chemist's to get my prescription filled. What's your address? Right. Oh, I have another address here, a Rathmines one? Oh. (again? Come off it...) You're a very mysterious lady then, aren't you? Keeping me guessing... I can't be sure as I was panicking and backing slowly out the door at this point, but I think he may actually have winked at me.
Feathers ruffled, I headed in to the deli next door to buy lunch (well, Monster Munch, if I'm honest, but I decided that a turkey sandwich wouldn't kill me). I stood waiting for the sandwich man to finish chatting to his mate, pretending not to earwig on their conversation but trying to keep my sniggers to myself (he's funny). Finally it was my turn. So, what gossip have you got for me? I'll trade you salacious gossip for a sandwich. You look like you might have something good to share.
WHAT THE FUCK?
I'm going to work unwashed and dressed up like a car crash from now on. It seems to work for me, at least with the village shopkeeps.
First to the cobbler's; a cheeky redheaded chap as befits his profession. So when would you like to come back and see me? Cue a quizzical look from me (surely he can't be flirting with me?) and then an embarrassed pause from him. Come back, I mean - to collect your boots?
Then to the chemist's to get my prescription filled. What's your address? Right. Oh, I have another address here, a Rathmines one? Oh. (again? Come off it...) You're a very mysterious lady then, aren't you? Keeping me guessing... I can't be sure as I was panicking and backing slowly out the door at this point, but I think he may actually have winked at me.
Feathers ruffled, I headed in to the deli next door to buy lunch (well, Monster Munch, if I'm honest, but I decided that a turkey sandwich wouldn't kill me). I stood waiting for the sandwich man to finish chatting to his mate, pretending not to earwig on their conversation but trying to keep my sniggers to myself (he's funny). Finally it was my turn. So, what gossip have you got for me? I'll trade you salacious gossip for a sandwich. You look like you might have something good to share.
WHAT THE FUCK?
I'm going to work unwashed and dressed up like a car crash from now on. It seems to work for me, at least with the village shopkeeps.
