Toastie

I ate a toastie for lunch five minutes ago. Ham, cheese, tomato and avocado (classy). It was a pretty majestic lunch. Coupled with carrot sticks, I felt I was back in year three again.

I remember ordering ham and cheese toasties from the school canteen in primary school every now and then. Once, in year three or four, I ordered one and had it settled down on a paper bag on the ground next to me (don't worry; it was all very sanitary. Even at eight or however old one is in year three or four, I was very germ-conscious). There I was, naive and happy, chatting away with a friend, thinking about how I was about to relish my ham and cheese toastie.

"Eat meeee," the toastie cried out to me. But I resisted, every minute bringing me closer to a hunger that would culminate in a chomp of ham, cheese and toastness.

But then... It all happened so quickly. Before I had time to react.

There was Daniel L, blonde haired barbarian of primary school. Somewhat ADHD (diagnosis unconfirmed), running around like a youth in the little courtyard/quadrangle area in which I was sitting (with toastie). He, getting cocky about turning a corner, somehow managed to STEP ON MY TOASTIE.

He didn't even notice, the blonde bastard. Just kept on skidding around bends, flinging dog shit and whatever other filth he had on his shoes all over people's toasties and various other edible treats.

I, in my eight year old depression, looked down at my forlorn toastie. I can still remember the distinct imprints of the Blonde Bastard's shoes on the bready surface. The other half of the toastie was untouched but I couldn't bear to eat it. I imagined that specks of dog shit had settled all over my toastie (it wasn't even my toastie anymore; it was as if it had been marked and claimed by another as a dog pisses on a pole to mark its territory) and it was now unfit for human consumption.

I, being the outstanding citizen that I am, took said toastie and deposited it in a nearby waste disposal unit (rubbish bin).

I was hungry for the rest of the day.

J