Tsunami

I stepped out of my front door this morning looking sharp. Pin stripe suit neatly pressed - check. Crisp white Thomas Pink shirt - check. Red silk tie - check. Spit polished Church shoes - check. Financial Times under one arm - check. Wolf of Wall Street - I eat you for breakfast. Gordon Gecko - I spit on your grave.

Jeeves opens the door to the Roller and I....okay let's not get too carried away! There was a touch of precipitation in the air so I deployed my Allen Edmonds brollie and proceeded jauntily towards my destination - Clapham Junction railway station.

I was ready to conquer the world.

So as I am approaching the station I fail to notice a rather large puddle of muddy water that has accumulated over night in one of the many potholes that litter London's street UNTIL it morphs into a large tsunami style wave that crashes over my splendid attire.

The culprit?

A London bus - driven by an individual that no doubt votes for labour. He lined me up with the puddle and whoosh - 1 x drenched city slicker!!

I was not happy as you can well imagine. My bubble of superiority had burst and I was just another miserable sod enduring a Thursday morning commute with a grimace...and water trickling into my Calvin Klein boxer shorts!

==============================================
On a different note I see the ANC is marching to victory in the South African election - awesome; another five years of misrule and mismanagement to look forward too.

Out.