This morning I bought my delicious coffee from West Coast Coffee Company. Coffee is much needed after a weekend. At the bus stop I struggled to juggle my Metro newspaper, bottle of water and coffee. I placed the coffee down on the bench of the bus stop. A second later, something fell and I looked down. My exceptionally pointy black shoes were standing in a pool of coffee.
“Whoopsies!” I said aloud.
My fellow bus stop-attendants watched in amusement as I scooped up the paper cup and lid to dispose them in the bin. The coffee cup had fallen from the bench and drenched the trousers of my right leg.
Ten minutes later, on my short walk to the office, I chatted and joked with a colleague. I kicked something. Thinking it was some rubbish, I looked back to examine the injured party. It was not rubbish. It was dog shit. I had kicked some dog faeces three or four feet from its place of rest.
“Fuck! This is a bad start to a Monday!” I roared.
I’m now in work and there is a really strong smell of coffee. I thought someone was taunting me. Nobody in my vicinity is drinking coffee. Yes, you’ve guessed it; it is me that stinks of coffee. It’s not even ten o’clock and I have covered myself in eau du café and wiped shit from the toes of my shoe.
Things can only get better!