fi fi....Fiona! / Sour Beer

I could not have been interrupted from an afternoon beer in a more rude manner. It began by a few quiet ales at the old local with a few colleagues and close acquaintances, when FIONA who i had not seen in my life, appeared. As i sat at the outdoors table with relatively large glasses on a drunk, not attractive, gambling, beer bellied mum yells her name at me.

'Fiona,' she said as she walked closer. I ignored her as i believed the comment was not directed at me.
'Fiona,' she said in a louder voice. At this stage she was right in front of me. I looked away and glanced at the others at the table still believing the comments were not directed at me and at someone else i was sitting with. They all stared blankly back at my direction.

At this the old hag changed her manner and began to throw profanities my way.

'You rude piece of shit, when someone introduces themselves your meant to offer your name back.' During this i seemed to notice her chipped and stained teeth that look like she has been kissing a dog.
She then walked over to her bike continuing to bad mouth me. I was flabbergasted at what was going on.

'Oh! and your showing bumcrack, how disgusting.' I couldn't even laugh i was in shock.
'Your just like your bumcrack.'
'I have five grandchildren and your nothing like them.' It is difficult to piece that comment together. I felt like telling her she should be looking after her grandchildren and not being a booze hound, junky, pokie player. But i refrained.
'Look and you and your glasses covering half your face,' as she slurred her words in a whiny homeless voice.

During her drunken rampage she struggled to unlock her bike. This made for more time to keep blasting offensive, yet somewhat disjointed comments in my direction.

Soon enough she passed like a storm in the night and the calm returned to my body and the vibe that surrounded the table pre Fiona was established.

Fiona continued to annoy the locals with a gesture regularly fired down in my direction. The slag then left with an old long white bearded male who was hopefully onlywalking in the same direction and not getting himself more than any human could handle.

If only a bus came at the same time she rode down the road.

As the wrath known as FIONA turned into sheer memory, another local turned up at the table. The deaf, drunk, blind old man, BARREN. What a wonderful conversation it turned out talking to him. Yet i continue to stop in for a cold ale.