Minor Grievance #372

So, my sunny mood could only last so long and appropriately enough disappeared as soon as the actual sun did and the skies opened up. One thing I will never understand is why people in London insist on carrying giant umbrellas in town. I could forgive it if there were four people jammed underneath it but when there's one very smug banker under an umbrella with a diameter of 2 metres, I begin to see red.

These tossers take up the entire pavement as they stroll slowly along while everyone has to veer sharply out of their way for fear of having an eye poked out by a spoke and ends up in six inches of flooded gutter water.

And then, they get on the tube and insist on carrying the thing under their arm with the sharp pointy metal capped bit sticking out a foot behind them. And of course, they forget about this potential weapon and either swing round and inevitably clock you square in the face (particularly if you're short like me) or pump it with great vigour as they walk, causing those behind them to do a dodging dance the entire way.

Walking to and from various stations today, I was almost stabbed six times, got smacked in the shoulder and then got stuck behind a banking moron who was braying into his crackberry about his lovely weekend in the Cotswolds while twirling his navy and maroon golfing umbrella in his hand, spraying all those around him with even more rain water. But he was dry, so that's okay.

People, if you live in a city, buy a small folding umbrella. Not only will you no longer have the threat of litigation that knocking someone's front teeth out brings looming over you; you will also cease to be a twat in my eyes.