Three Little Events From TuesdaySubmitted by Replen at 2010-04-06 14:32:49 EDT
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I turned on the shower and got into the bathtub and looking towards the plug hole I see there's a chubby fucker of a spider near the plug hole. I'm not too bothered by spiders so I let it be and get on with things as usual. However, after a little while I turn round and see that the spider is making its way towards me avoiding the water having cleverly gone up the curve of the bath a bit.
Well fuck you spider I gave you a chance, all you had to do was stay down your end, but no, now you've made me uneasy and you have to die. I use my foot to woodge a bit water that way and send the bastard down the plug hole. But he's a resilient bugger and refuses to budge. I can see him visibly holding on. I have to use my foot to send down 4 or 5 more spider tsunamis and finally he loses his grip and goes flailing towards oblivion.
I look at the plug hole thinking it's all done and dusted but I'm taken back when I see two little spiders legs moving in one of the holes. What a little shit! So I remove the shower head and hold it directly over the plug hole and give it 5 seconds of full blast. I replace the shower head and see no signs of life. Take that you little cunt.
I continue washing and then get out the shower and have a shave. After that's finished I lean over the window sill to get my tooth brush and what I do fucking see near the plug hole? Damn spider again! Exasperated I think to myself 'Why won't you die, you fucker?' I can't leave it in there, spider removal was one of the first household chores allocated to me when we moved in so I get the toothpaste tube and coax the spider onto it and then quickly flick it out the window. As I did this, from nowhere, I said out loud "yippee-kai-yay motherfucker" in what must have been some unconsciously driven tribute to the John McClane of the spider world.
All the spider mayhem had put me behind schedule so I had to really rush to the station to avoid missing the train and being late for work. I walk through a park on the way to the station and usually I take the concrete path that meanders around the outskirt. But today I was in a rush so I went straight across the grass. Mistake. Haven't done it for 10+ years. Thought I'd grown out of it - but no, today I have go and step in dog shit. Real big pile too. Stunk horrendously. Really filled the nostrils.
But being late was not an option, so there was no going back to change shoes. I do that kind of foot dragging-twisty-turning thing across the rest of the grass and then proceed to the station stopping every 20 steps or so to check that it's all gone from the bottom of my shoe. Can't see anything, all clear, rock on.
I step onto the platform just as the trains doors are beeping and slip onto the train. There's one solitary seat left, an outside of a double, not even one of those shit middle of a triple ones. Must be karma. I've had a rubbish morning and I've been rewarded with a seat on a rush hour train for the first time in about 2 years. Overall, a result I think.
And then the businessman diagonal to me did a double sniff thing and I immediately think 'FUCK! I didn't get off all the dog shit'. Paranoia takes hold, what must these people think of me? NOOO, they'll give me a mind nickname like I do to other commuters like 'sweaty back man' or 'fidgets with bra lady'. I'll be 'smells of shit bloke'! Fuck.
But wait, some rational thought, maybe the guy just has a cold. No one else is sniffing, right. Wrong. Some fucking bitch sitting opposite who will be known in my head from now on as 'opposite bitch' does a sniff as well. Balls. I've got to check now, and if it's me I'll just have to go stand near the door and remember to buy some new shoes on the way to work. But how? It's not like that time I could smell BO on the train and even though I was sure it wasn't me I thought I should be safe and check anyway and sneakily had trouble getting something out my inside pocket. I can't exactly grab my foot and bring it up to my nose.
I take action and bring the previously offending shoe up on to my opposite knee in that way that non-gay blokes do when they are reading the newspaper, but my foot was still too far away to get a really good sniff in. I needed to get closer. I accidently dropped the free newspaper I acquire every morning at the station entrance between my legs and as I lean forward to pick it up take in a good long sniff. Nothing - just grass and leather. Brilliant. I lean back in my seat happy with myself with a slight smirk. However I notice that the women opposite me is looking at me weird. And then it occurs to me, what it must have looked like - the only thing worse than 'smells of shit bloke' is 'leans forward and smells womens crotch guy'. Bollocks. At least the trains pulling in and I can make a quick getaway.
Although today's travel fun didn't end there. On the train home I was already in my seat when a rather busty women in a 'I'm being assertive and professional' power suit and blouse slammed down next to me in a space that really wasn't big enough without me readjusting my position. That's fine. London is full of inconsiderate and rude cunts. I like it that way, keeps a lot of the Northerners out.
However - an instinct, a sixth sense almost, told me something was up. A surreptitious look to my side confirmed it. The women had sat down in such a way that it had stretched her blouse allowing me to clearly see inbetween the button holes to some serious boobage going on. I had several more crafty looks. So many in fact that she kind of flinched in way that said that I was acting a bit suspicious.
I focused on my newspaper (I hadn't really read it properly in the morning), but it wasn't working. I just couldn't concentrate on the words. I've got to look again. But why? I saw boobs this morning. I emptied my balls this morning. And if the Die Hard spider didn't make it back in the bath after I'd left I'll be in the good books and in prime position to give the tower of power another run out tonight. But no. I had to keep on sneaking a look. I couldn't help it. It was like some deep DNA caveman shit driving it.
After about another 15 or so secret glances even I was thinking, come on, this is ridiculous and more than a bit pervy. I reached an agreement with myself. Be a mature grown man - just one more look and then concentrate on the horoscopes even if you don't read it. I dropped the newspaper slightly, and repositioned my head slightly for the best angle and just as I did this the women huffed (quite loudly) under her breath and yanked her suit top across her front and turned away from me.
You could have fried an egg on my face it was so red hot. What a fucking Tuesday.