Here's what pisses me off about glass, it's single only job is to be see-through, it's SINGLE ONLY JOB, and yet eat a shard of it and you can no longer even see it at all! You know, except the bit sticking out your neck, but then you have to break that off and eat it again, and it's NEVER the tastiest bit. I don't know why.
The glass was the first thing I noticed when I stormed out of the cloakroom. Glass windows, glass glasses, people looking at the glass glasses through their glasses. But soon I was distracted by more things. Things that had nothing at all to with glass. By the lights through the glass bulbs. By the people eating their food and drinking their glasses of wine. By Kev's wailing for an ambulance or at least a glass of water. By the glass fish tank left over from the old set up which didn't fit the current Mexican theme, I mean the fish in the tank were Cichlids, which are African, they should have had Mexican fish in there, like the ones that lay pinto beans. Stupid owners. By the the class of 78' reunion going on in the corner with the misspelled banner accidentally saying 'glass of 78'. And by the evil super-villain Glassman, who'd taken a break from super-villaining for an hour or two to eat some delicious glass shards and salsa.
Plus I was distracted by the fact that I was now staring across the room at a door which said 'cloakroom' on it. So where had I just been? And how come everyone else in there had knives, and pans, and buckets of corn chips and guacamole next to them?
To be honest I was so distracted that I briefly forgot what I needed to do. The thing that was so important. The BIG thing. That needed to be done NOW. And forgetting what I am supposed to be doing has always made me hungry.
Lucky I heard there was a good Mexican restaurant near by. I wasn't sure where exactly so I asked one of the waiters 'do you know where a Mexican restaurant near hear is'? He tipped his sombrero up, tilted his head back and looked at me suspiciously and sheepishly replied 'are you fucking serious?'
And when people ask me if I'm serious when the answer is that I'm deadly serious, things take a turn for the deadly, and when things get deadly they get serious - deadly serious.
I grabbed for a knife, but instead got a glass, and I held it up into the air and yelled at the waiter 'it's ok, I'll just eat this'.
And that's when things in the room reached a level they'd previously never been before - just as heated. How I would deal with this would affect the whole rest of the afternoon, and I needed to deal with it NOW, and in a BIG way!
To be added to*
*Another alternative for continued, albeit a shit one. Someone really should look into that.