Now since I rely on said person for a lift home, I have no choice but to come along for the ride, whats that Allan? You have dinner waiting for you on the table at home and we can't be late? Fuck you, my daughter has ran out of hair dye! Hello??
It's outragous. I'm stunned and not to mention furious. I'm sitting in the car waiting while she shuffles around Asda looking for the dye while I stare at the clock in the car. Yay 8:25pm.
She emerges and we make our way, driving like she is tired of living. Not to get me home quick, but so her precious, butter wouldn't melt daughter would not have to wait too long for the dye. At no point does she apologise for this situation. Fuck, I wouldn't even mind if it was a death or something, I would be annoyed yeah but still. But hair dye for fuck sake? Am I loosing it? Maybe I'm wrong, maybe its normal for such issues to be of paramount in-fucking-portance.
You know the real sting in the tail? She doesnt take me home, which might I add is a mere 2 minute detour from her humble abode, to be nice or as a favour. She actually asks me for money for it and I had to pay her for this week the sum of £10. I texted my dad this grim situation and that I would be home late. His response? "The minge".
Well I hope this situation with the dye was resolved because I won't be able to get a wink of sleep tonight. Maybe thats because I got her high pitched shrill of a voice in my head. I have had her voice in my ear for 6 hours a day since monday. She sounds a bit like the tortured howls of 1000 undead writhing in the sulphury pits of hell mixed with a train with carriages full of scrap iron sliding down the road with no wheels, on fire, into a bell factory.
