“You don’t need a driving license to buy a fish pie,” she said, and we both laughed.

I put it back in my wallet.

“But people need a license if they walk their dogs with those fucking long extending leads,” I added.

She didn’t reply.

I could see the rapport was broken like the death of hope.

And I can’t even be certain if it was the expletive or the doggy downer.

This shitting world is really getting to me.