The Focus

I hadn't slept. Upon grabbing my beige coat and running out the door, was greeted by a broken car, by baseball bat to be exact. A note saying 'Don't fuck my man, bitch.' was held down by a removed wing mirror. I suppose in itself it would have been a worthy enough explanation for shitting up my car but facts as they were I hadn't been sleeping with anyone for at least six months. I didn't know her 'man'. I didn't know her. Though I was sure there was a suitcase load of agony in her right now and she'd expelled it at my car which now couldn't take me to work.  
    It was raining, bitter, hard and heavy in sheets, not that I'd mind watching other people stopping at pedestrian crossings and waiting for the lights to change while I switched my windscreen wipers on full blast. Somehow when it's you cast in the role of drowned rat, well, it's not quite the same, is it? I hadn't any headphones nor the right shoes, blisters were sinking into the edges of my feet as well as water. This was set to be a glorious day.  
       All the while I couldn't stop wondering how that lady's day was going. I wondered whether she'd been crying, seeking friends with which to tell of her valiant act, whether she'd gone to his next or before, how she found out, if she was sure, whether it was actually one of my neighbours, how far she'd come to trash the vehicle, whether that was the plan.  The walk wasn't as bad as I'd thought, I passed three mothers screaming at their children not to be slow, two homeless men and a three legged cat. Things could always be worse. My office secretary when I rocked up however seemed to disagree.
"You are la...What the hell has happened to you?" Two men in the waiting room lifted their eyes from their papers. I fiddled with my hair, wondering whether it was appropriate to ring it out on the entrance carpet, thinking better of it, standing taller.
"It's been a long morning."  
         The bathroom mirror told me all I needed to know. Two panda eyes, foundation somewhat moist and clumping, my hair long and limp over my shoulders. I had three appointments this morning and this was not an ideal look. I'd have to cancel which meant less money, which meant the electricity was likely to be cut again, which meant no way of emailing Aggy. Grand. That's all she needed. I never meant to be a burden. After twenty minutes under the hand-dryer, a borrowed brush from a member of clerical staff and a face free of make-up I was somewhat presentable.
"Where is she? I demand to see her!" There was fire beyond the doors and I felt pretty confident about who was hollering, this was personal. I now needed to know who had thrown me under a baseball bat wielding crazy person before she destroyed more than just my Focus.