Friday, 18 May 2012

Shiteous situation

I did a Bad Thing. It was only a minor Bad Thing but it was still bad. And, no, I'm not talking about watching the entire series 2 of Made in Chelsea when I should have been out running/cleaning my flat/ writing my opus.
I'm talking about taking slight advantage of a cab driver. We had a bit of chat. Usually I hate chats with taxi drivers, I don't know why, it just irks me. I always end up asking the same questions as well because it's basically hard to know what to ask someone when you have zero interest in them. Small talk. Has there ever been a more tedious convention?
This one was ok although he made sure to tell me he was single within the first five minutes. I would usually discontinue any conversation along these lines, as it's just weird and presumptuous. Obviously if he was fit then it'd be fine. Such are the vagaries of women.
This time though I smiled and may have even simpered. This is because two minutes into the journey I had noticed the unmistakable smell of dog shit. I looked down and saw a bit on the mat.
After ascertaining he hadn't had any dogs in the car but had had some children, we decided to blame it on them. Then I saw it. All over the heel of my Doc Marten.
I think the last time I trod in dog shit I was was about 9. It's one of those things that instantly makes me feel humiliated and childish. Like a proper grown up person would never have done something as embarrassing as tread in dog shit, bring it into a taxi and then blame a poor innocent child.
He's still flirting with me and I surreptitiously try to wipe it off my boot with my handy emergency tissue while keeping up enough interested-sounding noises as possible. Ohhhhhh you're divorced I trill. Yeah don't have no interest in her anymore says he. That's a shame sez I, trying to chuck the shit covered tissue out of the window without him seeing. As he's watching me in the rear view mirror this is tricky.
My main concern now is not to get it on any other part of me. Which I managed very well, for anyone concerned I might hug them later tonight.
I fail in my mission to clean it off as I hadn't quite realised the extent of the damage. And I thought to myself that a proper grown up would fess up to the taxi man and offer to clean his car mat.
I kept flirting.
As I got out at the station I managed to get some on the car door. I was pretty much hysterical with fake giggling by this point and the added worry of trying to hide my right boot from the taxi man.
Naturally he leapt out of the cab to help me with my bags. As he did so he peered into the backseat and remarked that the child had really trodden it in.
And then he knocked a couple of quid off my fare.
I pretty much ran, presumably trailing yet more dogshit in my wake. Where the fuck had I trodden into this mountain of kak? And how did I not even fricking notice?
I have issues with such situations and asked the cleaning person in the ladies toilets if I could use all his disinfectant and cleaning stuff. And he let me, the little star. So 20 mins of scrubbing later I was ready to start on the obsessive compulsive hand washing. I then bought some of that antibacterial gel which I have applied approx every five minutes for the duration of the journey so far.
I finally feel clean again. I really hope the taxi man does as well...

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