You ARE taking the piss


Right. It’s mid-week and already I’m willing and able to smash the next fucking thing that doesn’t Do As Told, or kill the next person as stands on me feet. Let’s back up and start again.

I had a great weekend ~ a great weekend. Went out on the lash and got a free shot from the barman I’ve been working on fert past two weeks in boca. Bestest mate Lill’see lit a fag for me cos I couldn’t get the bastard thing to light int air-con, and I think that made it look like we’re together. Yeah, like I should be so fucking lucky. Anyway, also watched ‘Doctor bloody Who’ and ‘Human Traffic’ (fer about the sixth time in me life). Loved it. Monday morning, went to work, no problems. Except. The kids. I normally have a lot of patience fer kids, seeing as they don’t really have a clue about the worlds in general. But this week I just seem to have zero tolerance fer whiny voices going, “Teacher! Teacher! His elbow touched my elbow!” In me head I’ve got that Homer Simpson-esque voice going “Do I look like I give a fuck? Fucking push him back! What the bloody hell do you want me to do about it?” Not good, right?

Tuesday, same. Wednesday – don’t ask. Today? Murder is ont cards, I tell you now. I never could get the hand of Thursdays, in an Arthur Dent kinda way. And it’s showing. Thursday morning (just) get ont bus. I’ve found all me shrapnel and I’m going to pay the HK$3.40 fare wi it, not me Octopus card. I get on Citybus’ number 10 double-decker, drop all me change int fare box, and of course, the first fucking coin defies the laws of gravity and gets stuck int top. Which means all the other coins (nine, to be precise) ricochet off it and shower over the driver and the floor. I apologise and we get them all up and into where they should be. I get up to the top deck in me usual seat and find the TV is bloody loud. What am I, deaf? Why the fuck the bloody TV is blaring out to an empty top deck is beyond me. The rest of the deck starts to fill, and one person goes back downstairs and asks for it to be turned down. For whatever reason, it isn’t. I’m already steamed and ready to smash it in wi me foot. Instead I turn up my iPod and am very grateful when Arctic Monkeys’ ‘Favourite Worst Nightmare’ starts up. Bloody marvellous.

Get to the stop and I get off. Waiting to cross the road, people standing on me feet and pushing into me as if I’ll give like tissue paper. Riiiiiiiight. How the hell a 12-stone girl could give like tissue paper I’ll never understand. I stand me ground and it almost amuses me to see these self-important pedestrians bounce off me. They give me dirty looks like it’s my fault. I bawl, “Excuse me!” at them and they ignore me and rush off. Wankers.

I get inside the Sheung Wan MTR station (and why, for the love of Sean Bean’s arse, is it called ‘Sheung Wan’? Do you hear a ‘SH’ in that name? No. So why is it spelt like that in English? So I call it sHoup? sHnakes? Fuck off!). I go to the Hang Seng ATMs. I queue and I’m there in about 5 mins. I put me card in and find that, after I’ve wasted my fucking time putting int code and choosing options, the only fucking notes it’s carrying is HK$1,000 ones. Yeah, cos it’s Thursday lunchtime and obviously no fucker’s refilled the machines. And it couldn’t bloody well tell me till I’ve already wasted my bastard time. Mid-week? Mid-week and no fucking HK$100? What the fuck is going on when you can’t even get HK$100 from an ATM? And it’s not just one, it’s all three of the sodding machines. I know, cos I was fucking gullible enough to try em all.

Then Goh-Goh rings me and I’m already in a black mood. I rip me card out of the bastard machine and storm off down the escalator to the train platform. We chat and I’m starting to feel better. The train arrives, I get on. He hangs up, I go back to me iPod. Train stops at Central station. Everyone and his brother’s entire estranged family get on. And here it starts, folks. A bag in the eye. “Oi ~ OUCH!” at the bird and she turns and realises the soft thing her bag’s annoying is actually the organic material I need to see with. No apologies, she just shuffles further away. A boot on top of my foot. I lift me foot with enthusiasm and the owner nearly stumbles. And he looks at me, cos obviously it’s my fucking fault.

Get off the MTR at me station, find the two ATMs are similarly neglected staff-wise, and find meself with exactly HK$24.60 to buy lunch. I manage it (ta, Circle K and yer tray lunches). I get me lunch to the office, open it all up to find the fucking wanker didn’t put a fork in it. I go back to Circle K and demand me fork.

Now I know what yer thinking. She’s just a girl, she’s probably all PMT or summat. Well fuck you lot, cos I ent and it’s downright fucking rude of people to assume so. Every time I feel like killing someone, I get the same fucking loathsome, pitying look off people that think it’s all down to ‘girl’s problems’. Riiiiiiight. You think I’m bad now, you wait till I really AM all PMT’d up. The area under me sink is starting to smell, and it’s not the drains.

And on top of all this, I have a Parents’ Day on Sunday. Oh yeah, I have to give up 3 hours (5, if you include travelling time) on my only day off. The very night after ‘Doctor bloody Who’ will not be showing. How happy will I be to repeat endless fucking platitudes and meaningless comments to parents who expect just one ninety-minute lesson will turn their average kid into the next world genius? I predict… absolutely not at all.

And that’s it. I’m off to play some really loud music (yeah, at 10.30 at night) and praps watch an episode of ‘Firefly’, although I really don’t want to cos that’ll make me feel better instead of fuelling the rage. Which I’m really int mood for, truth be told. I could just go back to wasting my fucking time trying to burn a VCD, which, between ffmpegx and VCD Builder, just isn’t working. Yeah, cos I fucking love blundering about wiowt any instructions or insight, wasting four nights in a row trying all different settings and only finding out if it works or not after I’ve burnt the fucking bastard thing ~ which doesn’t work, of course. Yeah, that amuses me. That makes me laff. Oh yeah.

That’s it. I’m going to find some loud music to play.

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2 'aye's:

weenie said...

My....that's one bad day!

But had to laff at your ‘Sheung Wan’? Do you hear a ‘SH’ in that name? No. I've always wondered that myself. When me and my sisters write 'Chinglish', it's written how it sounds, none of this 'sh' stuff!

The new Monkeys cd - whaddaya think, don't think it's as good as their first one. Might have to listen to it a few more hundred times....

Soupdragon said...

I like the new Monkeys CD, but I have to admit, it had to grow on me. I liked the Little Man Tate one much more... That were an instant hit.

:)

SD