There are so many perverts, deviants, face lickers and general fiends in society it's a wonder I go outside at all. I mean you just never know who is sitting beside you on the bus or what their major malfunction is. Whilst on the outside they make appear sane and rational and the sort of person you would doff your hat to if you had a hat to doff but who knows what is going on in the dark sweaty recesses of their mind. Honestly there should be more registers, not just the sex offenders register and warning badges too - ankle fanciers register, the I like trains register, a register for those unnatural souls who get their jollies to putting their hands down their pants have a rummage around and then sniff their fingers. [shudder]
If you really considered it for too long you wouldn't go out at all or at the very least you wouldn't gamble on the mobile petri dish that is public transport.
As it turned out I didn't consider it for too long and did indeed go out for an afternoon gad about town taking advantage of the early Autumnal sun. I met my sister for lunch at Muriel's and a spiffing and wonderful time was had by all. I ambled, wandered and generally floated, as much as a fat lad can float, about town with carefree abandon. I picked up a new notebook and a few new pencils. I purchased jelly beans for Little Miss Manuel. I smiled at some old people and picked up a dropped toy for a small child. I was relaxed and happy. A small bird perched on my shoulder and we whistled in unison.
Life is good.
Or it was.
I got home and began separating the jelly beans for Little Miss Manuel, she has a strong predilection for the liquorice flavoured beans. So as a little surprise I thought it would be sweet to put all the liquorice beans into a wee tin for her. EEK, couldn't you just hug me all up? I should also add that the ratio of liquorice flavoured beans to lets say the rather unpalatable barbeque banana bean is out of all proportion. I found only twelve liquorice flavoured beans in four packets and had to add pineapple and wild berry to the tin to make it look less sad.
Beans separated and tin hidden under a pillow (how freaking smooth am I?) I thought I had better wander outside to check if the laundry was dry. And this ladies and gentlemen is when the whistling bird on my shoulder got told to fuck away off and the carefree abandon of earlier was replaced with rage and anger and no small amount of wrath.
Large portions of my laundry were missing, gone, absent, not fucking there anymore. Specifically my work uniform. Now what sort of sick twisted and down right dirty person steals a waiters uniform? A pervert that's who! I am agitated by this. I am beside myself with agitation. What use is my uniform to anyone? Believe me it's in no way cool, not even in an ironic way. This was definitely the work of a very distorted mind. I mean three doors up had all her laundry out at the same time including a sexy/sleazy nurses uniform and various pairs of ladies unmentionables. Now I'm not advocating it but surely that would have been a better target for a pervert than my uniform.
I picture them in their house dressed in my gear pretending to be me, probably with a small pillow or cushion stuffed up the shirt to mirror my largesse. They are probably making small talk with their stuffed animal collection round the dinner table - rubbish jokes and sleazy lines, just like me. Arrrrggghhh! It's so weird it beggars belief.
I'm not going out again. I'm just gonna sit here with a shotgun on my lap chewing on my own lip and telling strangers to move along. So beware good restaurant diners of Belfast, and surrounding hamlets and villages (specifically Lisburn), the chap taking your order may not be a real waiter, he may be a charlatan, an impostor, a fake or if you are really unlucky it could be me.