Saturday 5th October, 2013
To the woman I spoke with by the school gates yesterday afternoon,
I thought it wise to follow up our conversation in order to clarify any points which were unclear. Let us begin at the beginning. The reason I was on that particular section of pavement at that moment was to meet Noah, my son. He had been on the same school trip as your child, and Petal and I were looking forward to welcoming him home. With us was Eli, our sweet friendly dog, who seemed to know there was something going on, although not exactly what that was!
I am aware you were very glad to see your child, demonstrated by unintentionally raising your voice as you lovingly greeted him with you're fuckin' filthy - shud'up an' ged 'ere. The other parents, many of whom were accompanied by younger family members, are probably glad of this wonderful opportunity to expand their vocabulary. Certainly it was refreshing to hear your son's equally emotional response - fuck off always brings a tear to my eye when spoken with such genuine affection.
As for the words exchanged by you and I - well, I will endevour to remember in the future that beginning a conversation with excuse me may be taken as proof that I am a fucking posh cunt, and may be about to stick my fucking nose into something that is none of your fucking business. Sorry, none of my fucking business. Which reminds me, I admire the way you managed to use the word fuck no less than eleven times in the few sentences you spoke - such dedication and loyalty to a single word, and so imaginative, using the same root as both a verb fuck off; and an adjective fucking stupid. I shall try to remember from now on that I'm a fucking idiot as well as fucking ugly and fucking fat.
I would like to take this opportunity to unreservedly apologise that we were in your way, since clearly your need, to pick up your son, was far more important than mine, to pick up my son. I have explained to Petal that leaving her coat on the ground next to where she was sitting was extremely irresponsible of her, so the marks on it are entirely her own fault. While some may be of the opinion that since she was on the pavement and you were driving your car on that pavement and ran over her coat, narrowly missing her legs, that you should bear some of the responsibility, but hey, let's not split hairs.
Thank you for reminding me of my proper place as a pedestrian - under the wheels of your car.
Fucking Posh Cunt
Fucking Posh Cunt