MORNING STORE RAGE.

This morning,
In the shop,
I went into a strop with the mop
Behind the counter,
Who wouldn’t allow me to return
A set of baby clothes without the label,
Although I had the receipt,
And they were neat,
And,
Initially,
I was sweet.
But this bitch
Made me twitch,
And I consented to my temper’s request
For a mention,
Which it did,
And I shouted that she may as well keep them,
As I didn’t have time,
On a day like today,
With it pissing down and me being late,
To stand and debate the intricacies
Of her store’s policies,
And the jobsworth’s posture she presented,
And she smiled facilely,
And maybe I made her cry,
But on reflection
I don’t give a shit for her position
As she should have found a better occupation
If she didn’t want to deal with
Dicks like me.