Angry angels and old age anarchy

The sun is shining, the world is good. For no real reason, I'm in a particularly good mood as I drive to the supermarket. 

I find my spot, reverse slowly back with my arm around the passenger headrest (just to look manly) and turn off the engine. I start to think about what to buy and decide I'll treat myself to some new Lynx deodorant - the one with the slogan even angels will fall - where the advert shows beautiful winged women literally crash out of the sky and land at your feet when you spray the stuff on.



I'm skeptical, but I figure it can't hurt to try. 

As I get out of the car, I start imagining what I'd say if a beautiful angel did fall out of the sky. I think she'd be pretty cross to be honest. I'd probably go red and apologise, ask her if she'd hurt herself and perhaps suggest we pop in to the shop and get her some plasters. I'm in the middle of my imaginary apology to the angel when I lock my car and move to buy a ticket. I barely registered the elderly man when he tapped me on the shoulder.

The man was smiling from ear to ear. He looked a nice old chap, and he was, because he handed me his car park ticket. 

"This has still got an hour left on it, would you like it?"

I warmly accepted the ticket and thanked the man. A nice random act of kindness. I was already in a good mood, but now I had a free ticket and, soon, I'd have angels falling at my feet! It was a good day. I put the ticket on the dashboard and went about my shopping.

I was in the biscuit aisle when it hit me. 

I didn't actually check the ticket. I don't know why it popped into my head, but something was nagging me. When you get a thought like this, it tends to snowball until it's all you can think about. Eventually, I decided to leave my trolley, put my mind at rest and go and check the ticket.

I felt guilty for even doubting the ticket's validity. It looked like I didn't trust the sweet old man. I was being silly, what reason would he have to lie about a parking ticket? 

I got to my car and checked the ticket.  

It had expired. 

Hours ago. There was no time at all left on the ticket when he gave it to me. 

This was confusing. Perhaps he just made a mistake, we all do it. Maybe he got a bit confused, he was just trying to be nice. 

It wasn't until I shut the car door that I saw it.

Written in the dirt on the top of the car:

Cycological Warfare

There was a drawing of a bike, and the 'a' in warfare was drawn with an anarchy symbol. 

I didn't know what to feel. I'd been set up! I thought I was bonding with a sweet, harmless elderly person and benefitting from his kindness. I had that fuzzy feeling you get when you make a connection with a stranger and you think, aww the world's a nice place, people are nice. 

Lies! All of it! 

I'd been duped by a crafty old man who had seduced me with kindness! Then, when I'd swanned off happily into the shop, he'd gone and (sort of) vandalised my car in some kind of strange display of anarchy.

Perhaps it was a 'save the planet' go green type of protest. A way to teach me a lesson for driving to the shops (and planning to buy aerosols  - but he couldn't have known that - could he?). But I just felt betrayed. Naive and betrayed. My good mood destroyed by a cunning old man.

I finished my shopping. Bought the deodorant in a bid to cheer myself up. I even sprayed some on in the shop because I thought a beautiful angel lady would probably make me forget about what had just happened.

No angels fell. An old lady wobbled a bit outside the supermarket but I don't think that was from my smell. I didn't offer to help her. Sure she seemed like an old lady struggling with bags, but what was she really? A greenpeace protester? An MI5 spy? My faith in the older generation had taken a brutal hit.