Thursday, 13 November 2008


After returning home for training at the theme park I'll be working at, I started on my way home via public transport, when I got a message from Mum: "I just read your message. I could never forget you! Have a good trip back. Enjoy the storm. Love Mum ;-(". I was unsure at first as to what she was referring. Then I remembered a message I sent her just before I arrived at the station on the way to my family's house, to herald my arrival and signify that she should probably pick me up: "Hey, Mum! Don't forget me!"

I witnessed a sad state of affairs on the tram tonight. I approached the tram stop through the pouring rain with an old lady, the two of us alone in the middle of the street. She looked up at me and said in a thick accent: "So vet! I'm hardly veahrink anysink!"
"No, it's not much fun, is it?" I replied.
As the tram pulled up, people emerged from the side streets and under the shops to board. She got on behind me and stopped in front of a large man, sitting across more seats than he needed. He was whispering to himself a mixture of profanities. She demanded he move over to accommodate her.
"F-f-f... Off..." he managed.
"You don't look too young yourself. Now let me sit zehr!" she said.
"Fu-fucking old bag..." he stammered, not making eye contact and shaking a little.
"Vye you! You don't call me zat!" she screamed, lifting her woven grocery bag, "I am a woman of eighty years! You don't talk to me like ziss."
"F-f-fucking old... fucking old..." he whispered, reeling from the shock of the impact to his head.
"No! You bastard!" she turns to the tram driver, "He calls me such sings!"
"You watch your language." insisted the driver to the man seated.
The woman raised her bag again, clipping him again, but not as hard, "And you, there's no need for that!" added the driver to the woman.
"I kill him."
She takes her seat.
"The bastard, I kill him. The bastard. He's dead."
The few of us in the tram watched sadly as the two deranged people fumed in their seats. It was such a sad sight to behold.

I had a friend over so we could study together in my apartment. I met him at the gate, took him through the main entrance and then we walked up to the building where I live. We were met by sirens blaring. Someone had set off the fire alarm. I asked people who were hanging around out the front, but they didn't know what was going on. My dutch apartment mate was with those waiting to be let back in. She turned to me and said: "It's sad. This is the most interesting thing of the day. This is like there's happening something!" So cute.

I hope all your days finish on a nice note, even if you have to rearrange them before you post about them.


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