Damp squib

Today is Bonfire Night. Traditionally the time when we gather round to ooh and aah at fireworks, while also burning effigies, made from our mum's stockings, and dad's old suit on top of great big piles of rubbish. If we're lucky, some hoodies come to our doorstep's and scream "Penny for the guy!" at us, knowing full well that they want a damn sight more than just a penny. Try giving one of these creative little rascals a penny, and they're likely to shove homemade fireworks through your letterbox. Kids today are a clever bunch. Lazy, but clever. They're always thinking of new and exciting ways to rob you. But I might be generalising a whole generation or two here.
One of the other great traditions of November the 5th is getting pissed on by nature. And I don't mean animals. I mean clouds and stuff. It loves to rain on Bonfire night. It's like nature is furious at us for setting trees on fire, burning shit, and launching missiles into its sky. So, it does its best to drown us every year. I went into town today, and got caught in the rain. It wasn't raining when I went into Poundland, but you can tell something is awry with the weather when people won't let you leave whatever store you are in. You try to get through the doors and its just a wall of people. All pressing themselves into any and all shop doorways. And they couldn't give a fuck if you're trying to get out. If you want to get wet, that's your business, but they are not moving for you. And there's always one SOB with a bike. Wtf? Lengthways, across the doors.
One time, instead of walking around the guy with the bike, I theatrically stepped over his crossbar, woefully misjudging how tall I was. And how long my feet are. And where his bike's saddle was in relation to my oversized foot. The trailing leg was a killer. The whole thing was a mess and I looked like a cross between a blind hurdler and the world's most uncertain bike thief. If it takes you longer than 6-7 seconds to step over somebody's bike, then it becomes a farce. The guy was pretty good about it. He couldn't give a f_ck as long as he was dry.
Tonight's rain was a pain in the arse. I wasn't prepared for it. To be honest, I had completely forgotten that tonight was bonfire night. It's a bit like the school holidays. When I was at school, I knew exactly when, where, and how each school holiday was on the calender. But the second I left school, all that got deleted. Now, when somebody asks me "There's a lot of kids about today, have they broken up?", I really haven't got a clue.
It's a bit like that with bonfire night now. I associate that with being something that I did when I was younger. I still love fireworks, but my desire to watch pallets and old sofas burn has long since left me. I have no idea when exactly, but it probably left about the same time that I gave up wearing a school tie.
Tonight's rain was the bad kind. The bigger than normal kind. The extra fat droplets.
And cold too. The colder than normal rain. The kind that soaks you through, goes down the back of your neck, and makes little streams trickle down your nose. I took shelter in the supermarket, went into the washroom and found a teenage boy wetting his hair wtf? It's pissing it down outside and he's wetting his hair??? I looked in the mirror, and apart from the two water droplets hanging from my earlobes like earrings, I didn't look too bad. Sorta like a glamorous drowned rat.
Now I'm sat here.
My clothes are drying, before I put them to wash. (Don't).
I'm bound sure to get a cold.
And to really take the mickey, I have fireworks going off in every direction except the one that all my windows face. So.....if I want to watch the fireworks tonight, I'm gonna have to get wet again. Nature has a twisted sense of humour.
Happy Bonfire Night everyone.