Love in a time of anger

After the shenanigans of the last few days it was almost a relief to return to routine today. I say almost because alarm clocks remain Satan’s assistants and I detest how bossy and insistent and unreasonable they are. On the  bus I was daydreaming and then I heard a melodious South African accent saying ‘Hyilloo’. It was angry lady and she was beginning her morning call.

Now I would like to say that I have known many South Africans in my time.  I have known people of many nationalities in my time, so I do hope people realise that I am not stereotyping all South African people as rageoholics. Most of them have been absolutely lovely. But from the evidence presented on a daily basis over the past month, this woman has serious anger management issues and absolutely no concern about whether other people can hear every word she says. She deserves a name – she has a name of course but I wouldn’t dream of asking it – she might punch me. I shall call her Rageina (Regina with some added rage).

I settled back into my seat ready for my daily dose of fury.

But something was amiss. She was perfectly calm. That’s not to say she wasn’t loud. Her voice has the intonation of a foghorn – loud and penetrating at all times. I was confused. Was she unwell? What was the reason for her unseasonal good humour. I concentrated. And the answer became clear. She and her beleaguered husband on the other end of the line were on a mission. They were looking to buy a 2nd hand car and were plotting their next move.

It would appear that Rageina and the hubby have only been in Ireland about 6 months, and they live outside of Dublin. She gets an early morning train to Dublin and then gets on my bus. She has to leave her house at 7am to be at work for 9. And she is exhausted. Her husband works night shift and the reason they have these detailed early morning chats is because it is the only time they get to have a private conversation without the children present – private apart from a crowded bus avidly listening to every word she says, I mean. He has dropped them off at school, and goes to bed when she gets off the bus. She is completely knackered all the time. And once they get a car, their life will be easier. Their budget for the car at the moment is 1500euros and as they don’t have it, she is collecting the money by getting cashback from every shop purchase she makes.

Yesterday that bitch in the shop near where she works (her description, not mine) told her that she’d be getting no more cashback. Rageina proudly claimed to have given her a piece of her mind. That poor, poor shopwoman.

The car will be purchased within the next week. It will make things easier with the boys as well. The boys (her children I assume) are at a difficult stage. Their testosterone levels are apparently rising right now and both are trying to be alpha-male. Even though neither of them are. Rageina is the only alpha in that house, let me tell you.

She said goodbye a few stops before she got off and as she was saying goodbye she told her husband that she loved him and that the message he had sent her that morning had put a smile on her face that would last all day. It made me feel quite sentimental. Until I remembered her velociraptor tendencies. My blood chilled a little.

I fear I may soon be saying farewell to Rageina. I hope everything goes well for her.

In other thrilling news, I finally got myself connected to an electricity supply company having completely forgotten to do this when I moved in to my house. I am glad I remembered this. I wangled a homeowners discount which is 20% cheaper. Even though I am renting they incorrectly quoted me the cheaper price and as they had made that offer they had to honour it. I felt all executive and business like as I told them I would go to another company unless they honoured their offer.

My inner shoulderpads grew a little out of respect.

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