Celes's Yessir

This is a repost dating to last year, but a memory and piece I'm also fond of, with slight edits. I thought, being the first (and for a long time, only) blog I've done, I'd give it some light. Enjoy:

Walking through Croydon I came across something somewhat surprising, and it's been drifting my mind since.

Approaching JJB Sports, or possibly some other cheap, sports-themed rip-off (it escapes me), a black male of twenty or so darted from the narrow entrance with a seemingly filled silver rag resting under his armpit, held like some sort of rugby ball. In a few seconds, three maybe, he had galloped past me. In his stride through the doorway, however, he trod one little girl to the floor; stamping her straight into the dirt and taking no second look as his balance returned. And then he was gone.

What I found interesting was not in the male's blatant thievery, nor in the bravery of the tearless
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“Just my luck” he said. “Just my luck.” What the horrible news my friend had just received, exactly, escapes me – I probably wouldn't be guessing too far away to make the assumption it was related to some Modern Warfare connection problem, though. It was just his luck – his luck alone; nobody else could compare the severity of a minor occasional necessity to /reconnect a server. Truth be told, there was nothing distinctive in this event at all: it stood side by side with every other time someone had said the same thing – with all the times even I had said it – but this time I lost concentration, complained, and received the inspiration for this here blog.

Pointless sayings. Stupid sayings. The kind of phrases where you don't even consider each word individually; they come as a package, unmeddled with. Sometimes these phrases don't make much sense as they are, let alone in
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