“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.