Thursday, 24 June 2010

Fuck you, yoghurt!

I woke up far too early for work in a shitty mood. Details not important here. I decided to head in early so I could visit the supermarket, buy tasty breakfast, and sit in the bar eating it in comfort before opening and being interrupted by idiots.

I craved something healthy yet sweet, so grabbed a big pot of yoghurt, some grapes and looked forward to having that with muesli and honey. It's not a full English, but it is more delicious than it sounds.

Yoghurt in hand I strolled towards the checkout, only to round a corner and bump into someone coming the other way. It wasn't a violent bump, and afterwards I could see that she'd been carrying nothing but an apple which, unless it was laced with explosives or had a stalk that had been whittled to a point for later use in fruit-based hand to hand combat, doesn't account for the force with which my massive yoghurt decided to explode. All over me. A surly shop assistant came over and handed me a single tissue which was of no use at all, so I handed her my destroyed, yoghurt soaked carton and went for a replacement. She muttered something at me in German which I chose to ignore because I'm rude and covered in goo.

I hastily grabbed a replacement giant yoghurt from the shelf. A little too hastily since I didn't grab it so much as push it off the shelf for it to smash on the tiles at my feet, covering my shoes in itself. At least my outfit matched now, and with the heat being what it is today, I will smell delicious later. And by delicious I mean like a tramp's pocket.

This time I got no assistance from surly shop assistants so I did my best to keep calm, went to the exit, apologising and leaving with no yoghurt other than that I was wearing.

I'm having bacon sandwiches for breakfast.

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