The Madness that was the Weekend of Mayhem

I stand on the edge of the curb saluting the cars that whoosh past. They don't really seem to notice me. I don't care though. What I do care, is that each passing car hits a puddle, no an ocean of dirty rain that literally envelopes me. I wou;dn't mind so much if it was for the fact that I am in my all white pure mink and that earlier that day, I spent a random four hundred on my hair. I now damn well that I left for the weekend with it up in a wonderful high design, all pinned and tied back. It now hung over my face and dripped chemicals that stung my eyes.

You'd think, well I did, that the motorist passing would slow as they reached some poor drenched misfit, wavering back and forth, side to side on the edge of a busy road. But no, they don't.

Surprisingly I do remember how I landed here, although I rather wish I didn't. The weekend was unashamedly a msytery of madness and mayhem, that truth be told, I would rather not discuss.

I will however conclude with the idea that I made it home, despite looking like I had taken a midnight swim, I managed it entirely on my own. I later found, in my now brown tinged mink, my hair elastic and a whoile bunch of bobby pins. Seems I may not have remembered everything from the weekend.