While I was out

I like to think of myself as a pleasant young lady, polite, always smiling and eager to help those who ask for help. I smile when I walk down the street and I help old people carry their bags. I even tell people when they lose money while walking. But I think the Universe doesn’t like me. It’s like my whole life is an irony. One day, while drinking its coffee, the Universe thought, while chatting with its multiverse friends,  hmmm, I should make an ironic person with an ironic life. And then I was born. With a high level of irony and sarcasm.

But please let me tell you my story…

Remember yesterday’s post Grandpa don’t preach? Well… I was the wonderful lady. You might think these things happen once in a year, but no… they happen to me almost daily. And today, while I was waiting for the bus, listening to my music, cursing the fresh hole in my bag, I see this dude, this old man walking, NOT RIDING, but walking on his 80s bike. He was smiling like there’s no tomorrow, passing through all the people waiting for the bus, and then he starts screaming. I HOPE THAT ALL THE CITIZENS HAVE MY LUCK! BECAUSE THEY ARE WORTH IT! WE ARE ALL CHRISTIANS, ARE WE NOT?! YES, YES WE ARE! And then he bursts into laugh (quite an evil laugh if I may say), and goes on riding his bike. He made me wonder… was he the luckiest man alive, willing to share his luck with all of us, or he was a sarcastic genius?

Ah, but my day was far from over… Half an hour later, I was just walking out of a store, carrying lots of stuff in my hands. A friend sees me, comes to me, and we begin to talk. Then a cute 5 year old young man walks out of the store, with a bottle of Coca-Cola in his hands. My phone rings. I answer, still holding stuff in my hands. Then, the little boy opens his bottle, and half of his soda ends up on my feet. I said nothing because his mother was looking weird at me, and my friend who called me complained I was late, and the friend in front of me complained that the prices are so damn high in this damn country. And there I was… Wet, tired, with my phone in one hand and  three things in the other, just not giving a frack.

But wait… there’s more! After a one-hour-long-coffee break, I walk home. And I see this nice looking lady, with books in her hand. I thought to myself that it’s nice to see young people reading. I like books. Hell, I love books, and I always have at least one book in my bag. Then this lady stops me. She then begins to tell me about the mantra-way-of-life, how I can be happy if I read the books, only for a little donation in money. I smile, politely, nod my head once in a while, then turn around and on my way. Sometimes I feel I have a sign on my forehead, and it says: Please stop and talk to me. I’m interested in everything you have to say. I love religion and to hear all about your life’s philosophy. Please talk to me. But I don’t have the sign…

All of the above happened in two hours, and the day is not even over. I wonder what the Universe has planned for me, and I hope to God I don’t have to donate a kidney or something like that.

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