Storytime

Don’t you just LOVE thunderstorms? It’s currently 1am here and I’m enjoying the sounds of rolling thunder gently overshadowing the sounds of the Big Bang Theory. I say rolling thunder, but it sounds like someone in the sky is continuously opening and closing some sliding wardrobe doors. And I know I’m posting too much, but the situation has presented itself, and I have a rain-influenced story to tell.

So this incident happened, and I will forever remember this godforsaken memory because it is the day of my brothers birthday.

Anyway

So we left the house early that morning, around 9am, in order to find a birthday present for him [re: a toy], and it was CHUCKING IT. I mean it was pissing down with rain that seemed to just get heavier and heavier the whole time from when we left the house, back to when we stepped back into it.

We found a toy. After much pleading to buy EVERYthing, including a watering can and a mobile drum kit(????), we settled on a somewhat educational/fun toy because I am a fun but grounded older sister (not). On the way back from the shop we decided to stop off at Tesco so I could buy a Betty Crocker red velvet cake mix since I was being too lazy to make one myself, and that’s when it happened. Probably my punishment for thinking Betty could do a better job than me.

Driving along the road, I see a puddle. Now this didn’t look like one of those dangerous lake-type puddles, it literally just looked like a film of water covering the ground.

So let me first give you a little more info on my situation. The road was empty on approach, save for a car behind me. The pavements were empty, save for ONE pedestrian who happened to be walking RIGHT  BY THE PUDDLE as soon as I was approaching it. As one does, I was going a little above 30 and I thought it’d be no problem whizzing through this little stream. OH how wrong I was.

Bear in mind that I was playing music pretty loudly. Not loudly enough to be heard from outside,  like a douchebag, but loud enough to warrant me being in total shock when all I heard was a WOOOOOSHHHHHHHHH as I glided through a fucking ocean, spraying the innocent woman on the pavement. I assume I splashed her because, looking in the mirror, she stopped where she was and I assume that hiding behind her huge umbrella was a look of horror.

Mate

I have never felt guilt like I did then. I would have stopped and offered her a ride home but I panicked so much that I missed the only side road.

In hindsight, however, the situation was unavoidable. Not only is it too coincidental that she so happened to be lined up to the puddle as I was approaching, but I couldn’t slow down as the woman behind me was right up my fucking ass and would crash her beefy land rover into my tiny self, and a car JUST SO HAPPENED to APPEAR OUT OF NOWHERE, passing by on the other side, so I couldn’t swerve out to avoid the puddle.  All in all, I concluded that she must have gotten what she deserved. Terrible, right? Yes, terrible, because that didn’t help.

Until I got home and prayed. I literally rushed home to pray and spent 15 minutes in dua praying to be rid of this guilt and  – get this – praying that the victim deserved it for whatever she has done in life. I know, I was desperate. Maybe the only reason she was walking home in the pouring rain so early in the morning was because she’s mean and her family won’t drive her? Maybe she’s banned from driving for a DUI related accident?

Whatever. I’m over it.

Not really. Someone come stand by a puddle so that this time I can go out of my way to avoid it?

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4 thoughts on “Storytime

  1. Pingback: Brexit – K.

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