John and I have been together about 8 years, and for one reason and another, have never been able to get our families to meet. So yesterday John and I took our fathers and my mother out to lunch at a Spanish restaurant. It was a momentous day. We thought it would be a memorable day for that alone, but we were wrong.
Firstly, while we were at the restaurant, politely conversing away, someone observed that the restaurant had a variety of styles of chairs; all heavy wood in traditional Spanish style, some with leather backs and seats, and some with cowhide. This seemed like a safe, if banal, topic of converation until my mother burst out with…
Wait for it…
“I’m just going to reach down and see if mine is furry.”
“I meant the chair!”
Blame it on the Sangria.
But the drama wasn’t over for they day. Oh, no.
We all caught the bus back to our place for a coffee. At Central a young girl got on the bus, and started swearing at a guy who was carrying a box, saying that he had pushed her. He appologised, but she wouldn’t back down. She kept foul-mouthing him for a full five minutes. One word in two was ‘fuck’ and one word in five was ‘cunt’. I kid you not. The driver pulled over and asked her to get off. The girl refused and started verbally abusing him. He radioed the bus depot and asked them to contact the police. As she went out the back door, the girl sucker punched the guy carrying the box twice, so he grabbed her wrists to stop her getting off the bus and said that he wanted to charge her with asault.
From there, if you can believe it, it got worse; he and another guy had the girl pinned to the ground with his knee in her back. It was getting pretty ugly. The girl, who was indigenous, was calling him a ‘racist white cunt’, and he was reacting badly. It smelt like the situation was going to escalate.
John (and a couple of other people, I think) managed to persuade the guy to let her go; there was no point holding her for however long it would take for the police to arrive when the situation was already potentially explosive and getting worse.
Once the guy let her off the floor, the girl located her mobile phone, got off the bus, continue swearing, kicked the bus several times, then headed off down the street.
My mother has always been been convinced that I’d be killed walking down the street one day because I live in the inner city. Isn’t it just wonderful that she was on the bus when this occurred? The one time I have ever seen a ‘situation’. I’ll bet she’ll ring me every 30 seconds to make sure I am safe from now on.
Well, after all that drama, would you believe that it started to hail just as we got off the bus?
The hail stones were about golf ball size. The were falling fairly infrequently, but the nd although it started off pretty slowly, the hail was starting to fall more frequently. There was no where to shelter, so we all put up our umbrellas and I sped off to get to our house and open the door before the real downpour began. We got inside just in time.
Speaking of which, most cats are scared of storms. (What a smooth seque, right?), but not our Minni. While the other cats cower under the bed, Minni (our newest addition) becomes hyper and has mad cat moments. She madly runs about the house, and ends each lap by racing into the bedroom and under the bed to torment the other cats. When there is thunder, she just speeds up.