When it rains… well, it gets wet, obviously. Jeeze.

It’s been raining. Heavily. Here’s a picture of some awful weather. 


I finally managed to escape the house to get to my personal favorite spying location near home. When I arrived, nothing seemed too off. Everyone was busily typing away on their computers, or randomly blabbing on a cell phone. One girl looked drunk, but this is Florida, so it’s to be expected at 2p.m. 


It’s about the time I noticed drunkypoo that something strange happened. 
People started getting nasty. A couple broke into an enormous fight at the table nearest mine, complete with the obligatory “you’re not the man I started dating!” and “my mother warned me about girls like you!” kinds of insults thrown around like bad, bad step-children when daddy drinks.


I decided that I’d leave them to it and head inside for a quick bathroom break, but was met by another couple arguing at the counter, and yet another woman banging on the bathroom door for her slow (no, literally– she has Downs) child to exit. I had a flashback to the mentally distressed child that once came into the Starbucks I worked for who fingerpainted with his own feces on the bathroom wall, and rapidly gave up my thoughts of stepping foot in there. 


Outside! No, no. Outside is now populated by violently arguing college students. One lady sits among us, rapid-fire talking into a cell phone about how many apartments she has in what states. One of the students snaps, telling her to “take her rich ass back to one of them, we’re trying to get shit DONE.” 


By now I am assuming I’m hallucinating some collapse of society, that a raging virus is taking over their minds, and not everyone can be this utterly pissed off for no reason. It’s about the time that a man mumbles to his friend as they pass… “Fuck Monday.”
Right. The working man’s burden. That must be it.


But no. These people are not at work. Is the collective hatred for Monday so very strong that it invades the minds and lives of those without 9-5 jobs? Is there PCP in the coffee?
I have no idea, honestly– but it’s fucking funny to watch.


So for now, I’m going to sit back and collect their mutual annoyances for later stories. 
I feel pretty good, myself.

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