VIP Lounge is Closed

Like some un-cute child with an obsessive compulsive disorder that an unfavourite aunt demands should be demonstrated at a each and every family gathering - a supertalent must have an audience and is shown in all its glory......a stamp collection slideshow.... a poetry reading of teenage angst......a burping version of a well known pop classic. Today I am not happy, I have a skill, I collect air miles, I have a coloured card to prove it.

Today my ticket-colour card combo is refused by a fresh faced oficionado who fails to recognise my superiority in the food chain. He indeed embarasses this executive seeking entry to his vip kingdom and in a "not in my VIP lounge" sort of exclamative way. I am cast out from amongst my peers. I must buy a tepid coffeee, pay for a lumpy cake. This is not life as we know it.

I am losing my roots, I am a spoilt child stamping a foot, licking a wound and sobbing in all my gory.