Wednesday, 2 February 2011
The ultimate insult. It isn’t “You’re a bad mother”. It isn’t “I think I saw a marquee that might fit you.” It isn’t even “You’re that bad in bed… snore.”
It is “Excuse me, Young Lady <Herk, herk, herk>.”
I’m not even forty yet. Some whippersnapper approached me in the street about to ask for.. oh I don’t know. Charity subscriptions?? Free samples of anti-wrinkle cream? A Kays catalogue??? And his opening line was a smirk and “Excuse me Young Lady”. Yeah. I thought that was something you said to OLD people, not young, cool and fit me*!
I’m gutted. Almost cried there and then. Bastard.
*Two out of three and all that. Shut UP.
And to make matters worse… I needed to crop a picture of Himself and some of the sprogs. Opened it in Photoshop. Opened a second window. Dragged a layer over to start cropping and Himself’s face filled my screen. Words… fail. THIS is what I saw.