SLAG VEHICLES CROSSING

Just been laughing hysterically at myself.

Driving round the industrial estates, the breathtaking building with glass windows, massive, where you can see the piles of rubbish being incinerated, and it smells like someone farted in your car.

I take good care of my car, not externally, it’s covered in scratches and dents, but internally, the workings, the engine, the tyres.

And there are 40 mph roads which are just perfect for mindless driving.

And I come across a supermarket, tescos which is open till midnight on a Saturday (as opposed to 10pm like the other one). And I’m thinking, god, the layout is identical to the tescos I usually go to. The petrol station is even in the same place. There’s globalisation for you.

I then had to give someone a lift, and manage to get some work as an illegal taxi, as in, I’ll give you a fiver to take me into town. Ok then.

But after that, as I’m still driving and enjoying driving, I go back, to see if I can re-find my way to the mysterious tescos. I can and do.

Only then in dawns on me that the exit looks familiar and it’s the same fucking tescos I always go to. They’ve just changed the opening hours. And I came in via a different entrance.

And I’m just laughing hysterically, like really laughing.

Dear god I’m an idiot of the grandest proportions.

And I’ve lost my mind.

And I’m in a city with a million people but spend most of my time alone.

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