K8 the GR8

Today’s weather was typically Irish… lashing rain followed by blazing sunshine followed by hailstones, all within 30 minutes on a continuing cycle.  The sort of weather where you need to be prepared when you leave the house.

I was driving to work on the N11 today and was roughly at the Greystones turn-off, when a convertible pulled out in front of me.  The roof was down despite ominous looking clouds above, and the car’s occupants were a middle-aged ‘chap’ in tweeds (complete with a poncy tweed fedora).  His passenger was a younger lady, immaculately preened and wearing ridiculously large Nicole Ritchie type sunglasses.  She was the sort of woman who was probably named ‘Totty’ at birth.

The temptation got the better of me.

I got in front of him, and from a safe distance began to wash my windows like a mad bitch.  The spray from a window washer travels amazingly well at 100kmph and I got to watch with glee as the lady in the car began to have a canary over my antics.  Every time she got her compact out to re-apply her mask, I did it again.  I turned her Elizabeth Arden ‘True Beige’ to Crayola and laughed an evil laugh.

Why be so cruel?  Maybe it’s because it’s good to mess up beautiful things because they aren’t really all that beautiful to start with.  Maybe I was just bored.  Maybe it was a bit of both.