Saturday with people stupende
black.
But not angry depressed, holed up in a dark corner to make circles on the floor with the finger. No. Just pissed off, for the series, but give me something to kill, it's an order. I
under incazzatura are something excessively harmful. That is not the word rivolgetemi if you keep your ego / pride / self-esteem / mental health and / or physical disability.
'm pissed off for a more or less long series of reasons that have nothing to do with each other. Just in recent days, is a bad luck after another.
And I'm not depressing ... no. I feel like a little game, I need to destroy someone's psyche. About is not relevant. * _ *
I actually spotted a sacrificial victim ... but I must ask permission before you handle it because it involves another person that I love and I do not want to blame it recovers not his son.
(killer instinct when writing the above I called Eve, and after two hours on the phone the lust for blood has dropped dramatically ... thanks darling little creature! How would I do without you? * _ *)
But we move on to the note on Saturday. ^_____^
So were 10 in the morning on that of Modena and your pucciosa and poisonous Mad Hatter was trotting to the station to make the ticket that would take less than 40 miles away to meet Gaia, Puccia and two adorable girls of a ml . This resulted in
appropinquò the machines that would churn out entirely theoretical line tickets depending on what type the customer. Mad Hatter changed three machines while on her sweet little face will begin to see signs of frustration. After giving an unnecessary but satisfying football last machine went swearing to queue, continuing to complain et pedantic continuously because they would lose the train.
Without a ticket, trotted to the track where the train went up the signposts as directed in Bologna. Too bad that when he left that went in the opposite direction. Mad Hatter was just upset, stuck to the glass of the last car to look desperately Modena going off on the wrong side.
The brain instantly thought: "You idiot! You have the wrong train, stupid! "Mad Hatter but then silenced him because clearly did not have enough neurons to have their say. So it was that your heroine made two miles to find a train ticket- , better known as a man of tickets or controller. It was after
those who found two kilometers, surrounded, besieged and enslaved by a large group of people asking for clarification regarding the departure of the train instead. "In fact wrong train was too stupid even for me ..." he thought instinctively Mad Hatter. U_U
To which, in its meter and sixty-poor, made his way among the people, almost clinging mannikin of tickets and asking pucciosamente where he was going by train.
But in the opposite direction, of course: the pseudo-controller tried to say they had to pay the difference in ticket but as soon as he crossed the look fresh and full understanding of the Mad Hatter, mysteriously resigned.
Then went down to the first stop, and the four people directly in the opposite direction were led by Mad Hatter at the ticket office. But what happened in Modena? What happened was that the station had been wrong to write the destination on the board: the train stood, quiet and comfortable on the track, was not directed at Bologna, but in Reggio Emilia, was simply a delay of ten minutes and was waiting on the same track . So
unsuspecting passengers bound for Bologna (including myself) found themselves on the wrong train. =_____=
think that the machines worked was mere utopia, of course, Mad Hatter and then got in line to buy the coveted tickets Bologna. Then waited on the right track by checking the bill and asking for confirmation at least a dozen times.
The train finally arrived and Mad Hatter jumped on board almost touched, but just arrived in the wagon, was invaded by an aura of serenity and joy.
Terrified, got off the train and checked again. An intercity
.
That train was, yes, to Bologna, but it was a intercity . Mad Hatter
fell on the ground crying, exhausted in body and mind, thinking Gaiucci, alone and in pucciosa Bologna station, and realized he could not wait for the inter-half-hour later. Weeping inconsolably
increasingly boarded InterCity and asserted itself nicely to ignore it. ¬_¬''
Needless to say ... less than three minutes later (ie when Mad Hatter is still trying to evade the joyful chatter of its neighbors instead of) the controller was already going to check the tickets. As cut and run would have been extremely stupid and counterproductive - as Mad Hatter had been widely seen - decided to adopt another strategy.
Since the controller is not a man but a woman, opted for the little girl lost in the maze of Italy.
"This ticket is for an inter-miss ..."
"Really? But they told me was this ... "
"Yes, but this is an intercity ..."
"I swear I did not know ... ç_ç trip this morning, they gave me wrong information. I support her, what do I do now? _; "
And then the maternal instinct takes over, but can not defeat the stinginess. "Come on ... You pay the difference and it is right ... ^ _-"
"Yeah ... How much? ç_ç "
" € 10.45. And here ^__^"
Mad Hatter was petrified to rummage in her purse in search of the wallet. He counted the pennies on the hand of the little woman of tickets, and then sank into the chair opening the book on Caravaggio and trying to concentrate on Francis, trying desperately to dismiss the question "How long will these seats to catch fire ...?".
Mad Hatter came to Bologna so at half past eleven erupted an hour late. Gaiucci recovered to a track and went together to the house of Pucci, where they were reached by the other to go all together before taking a necessary et indispensable coffee and then lunch at the restaurant tahilandese-Vietnamese-Chinese.
spend a beautiful day to talk about this and that, talking crap and laughing for 90% of the time. Mad Hatter was especially happy because at last they met Gaiucci and Puccia. >, \u0026lt;
At half past five, Mad Hatter and Cheshire Cat (aka Gaiucci) went on the packed and overcrowded cottage to return to Inter.
I spent a wonderful day, I hope to repeat soon. Thank you, dear, it was a really great Saturday although exhausting! ^ * ^
And now, bye ... sleep ... bed ...
Reservoirs at all. =*=
PS The thought of the evening (sera. .. Well, 'night ¬_¬)... absinthe and I wanted to put me in the mouth a lollipop.
My badness, perhaps for the first time, tonight was checked almost perfectly. What worries me even. . _.
Sleep ... = _ = /
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