At The Local Shop

To the old man standing behind me in the supermarket queue:

Thanks for shuffling up as close as you could get and heavy breathing your garlic breath over my shoulder, whilst simultaneously making enough grunting and groaning noises to suggest you were actually trying to take a dump in your own trousers. I understand you were in a great hurry, and your time is more important than mine. If you do thisĀ again, please be as understanding and courteous as I have been, when IĀ turn around and vomit on your shoes.

Kisses,

F.

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