Sunday, July 09, 2006

Across the street.

*Please be aware that this piece contains language that may be considered offensive by some*


Don't look at me with that "oh, so superior" look on your face, you cow. It's all right for you. Sitting in your nice and warm office, at your nice and warm desk, doing your nice and warm job; me stuck out here in the freezing cold.

As if this was my idea. Do you honestly believe I would be here if I had any kind of say in the matter? But that doesn't concern you, does it? No, you just sit there, a fortunate set of circumstances convincing you that you're better than me.

Christ! The wind's cold! Slices right through you. Doesn't matter how much you rug up. And looks like it's going to piss down any minute now.

But that's not your worry, is it? Only thing you're worried about is whether the boss is going to ask you out on a date tonight. So typical of people like you. No consideration for anybody but yourself. Oh, I've seen the way you look at me some days. That snide little snicker. I know you think I'm disgusting. Probably reckon people like me deserve everything we get, I'll wager.

But what gives you the right to sit in judgement, huh? What gives society the right to discriminate against us, and ostracize us, just because we have a habit that some people don't like? Who said you could decide how we live? Every week, it seems, there's some new law which says we can't do this, can't go here; some new restriction on us, forcing us to retreat even further from the mainstream. Tell you what. Why don't you just tattoo "UNCLEAN" across our foreheads? At least that way all the hypocrisy will stop, and you won't have to pretend to like us.

Wish Davo was here. But he's been coughing pretty bad all week, and he looked pretty crook yesterday. Pity. We could have stood down here and really taken the piss out of you. Yeah, that's right, lady. We laugh at you. As far as we're concerned, you're not good enough for us. How do you feel about that, huh? Bet that would bite you in your complacency.

I knew it! Bloody raining now. Pissing down! And the wind's blowing it in under the awning. Fuck, it's cold!

Oh, look. You've got yourself a cup of coffee. Nice and warm is it? Hope you bloody drown in it. Moll.

Maybe I should go and get a coffee from the cafe across the street. Have I got any coins? Yeah, that should be enough.

Hang on! What time is it? Damn! Only five minutes before lunch is finished. If I get a coffee, I won't be able to have another cigarette before I go back in.

Aaah, stuff the coffee!

©2006 Crookedpaw's Retreat

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