Thursday, October 10, 2019

Am i next? Essay

I ran down the stairs like the speed of lighting with coffee in one hand and my briefcase in the other, and being the clumsy person I am I stumbled a couple of steps and split HOT piping coffee all over my new Ralph Lauren shirt that my wife had bought me for my 30th birthday. Limping on one foot I put down the coffee and walked out the house picking up my silver keys from the kitchen table and I slamed the door on the way out. I tore a rather large leaf off the crocked Cox apple tree that was growing in my front garden, it was so big the roots were lifting up the paved drive way. I tore that leaf off to clean the coffee stain of my shirt, but unfortunately it only made it worse. From the Swede brown colour my shirt originally was, the leaf managed to turn the small coffee patch stain into green slug slim colour. Like a hover bee hovering around, waiting to sting an innocent human I walked outside my drive to see the traffic from a far distance you could see within the heat waves that cars were producing, a long line of cars horning and you could hear the drivers screaming at each other. So I jumped into the car and backed out of my driveway. I was looking for a C.D to insert and play in my car but all I found was an old hanky, just like my shirt with coffee stains. I thought â€Å"what the heck might as well make use of it and try and at least get rid of the stain†, but it didn’t seem to work. The hanky just made matters worse, my shirt looked worse then when I had coffee on it. So now, not only did I hit my foot against the stairs and stumble down them and then pour piping coffee on my designer shirt I also thought I would be clever and try get rid of the stain only to find that I had made a pigs ear out of it all. Could my day get any worse? I drove along the narrow roads of St Don’s street, passing friends on the pavement smiling and waving at them. I couldn’t belive how much traffic there was. It was 8:45, and I needed to be in the works car park by 8:55 to allow my self to find a suitable place to park by that time I would have been in work on time, dead on 9 o’clock. But was this even possible? What made matters worse was that Mr Norris, the street gossiper was in his 1960’s banger talking to Mrs Norwich from his car window. He was blocking the dam road! I waited for two minutes to show that I had common courtesy and I had patience, but this was really pushing it. You see, I am the sort of man that does not really like time-wasters, not only do they give me a head ache they also blow my very short fuse in my head. I got out of my car and slammed the door, broke into their one-to-one conversations and I yelled. I yelled so loudly I could feel the coffee backing up on me. Mr Norris and Mrs Norwich soon got the message and drove off. By this time it was dead on 9 o’clock and I was still on St Don’s roads. Not only had I lost my time for finding a suitable parking space to park my pride and joy I was also extremely late for work. If I had one more late arrival at work my boss would either sack me or demote me. I soon came to the traffic lights which were at the end of St Don’s road and I was at the bend. The lights finally turned green, and as soon as I turned the bend going at 40mph the car beside me that had a drunken driver was speeding and he sped directly into a fruit stall. All you could see was apples ad plums splattered all over the floor. I didn’t bother to ask if the driver was alright or if the fruit seller was fine, I drove off not bothering to take any details or write an incident report. I finally arrived at work having to park my car at the far end of the car park. I then walked into work adjusting my tie and greeted the receptionist Gina and made my way across the lobby and opened my office door. As I was just about to step into my office a voice called out and said; â€Å"Sean you’re half an hour late, what’s wrong with you? Without you there is no job being done, but I am truly sorry without a job theirs is no future for you here† My boss had just made it clear that I was no longer a staff member at the ‘Technology software† company he also pointed at the brown cardboard box that was sitting on my desk, it looked like he had sorted my belongings out. He also told me and said

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.