Are you sitting comfortably boys and girls? I have for you a true story, that I feel you may enjoy.
Once upon an awkward Sunday, my mother's friend, who I can only describe as a beautiful, half-crazy piece of woman folk, took an eagerly anticipated trip to her favourite cafe on the promenade.
Half-crazy piece of woman folk ordered a cuppa-delicious and a Kit Kat. 'Aaaaave a break, 'aaaaave a Kit Kat, or so they say.
Due to the arrival of some sexy sunshine, the cafe was bustling with some less sexy, semi-naked tourists, and half-crazy piece of woman folk therefore grabbed the only available seat in the building, which happened to be on a cosy little table for two, opposite the bearded face of a ruggedly handsome man. As she sat down, placing her handbag and shopping bags on the floor, she began to contemplate what marinade she'd be sizzling her pork chops in later that evening.
Half-crazy piece of woman folk opened her four finger Kit Kat, and took the first finger. In a bid to impress the fine specimen that sat directly opposite her, she re-adjusted her blouse ever-so-slightly to show a little more cleavage than she usually would, and tried, with her come-hither chocolate finger, and her steamin' cuppa-delicious, to look all suave and seductive. It didn't particularly work for her, but in her mind, she was practically Angelina Jolie, and that was all that mattered.
It was all going so well, and she was 52% certain that ruggedly handsome man was contemplating reaching across the table and stroking her face, however, as she went to pick up the second finger of her eagerly anticipated Kit Kat, she realised that it was in his hand. She was even more astounded when he casually started eating it, as if it were his, a slight smirk on the corners of his Kit-Kat crumb coated lips. Cheeky git! She wouldn't have minded so much if he was scrawny and hungry looking, but not only was ruggedly handsome man working a more than adequate torso, but he was also busy feasting on his very own plate of chocolatey cake. What the devil was he wanting with her four finger Kit Kat?! Half-crazy piece of woman folk tutted profusely, and took numerous swigs of her cuppa-delicious in a bid to get away from this suddenly ugly and disgracefully rude stranger as quickly as she possibly could.
When suddenly ugly male also nabbed the final two fingers of her Kit Kat before her very eyes, half-crazy-piece-of-woman-folk's bongo was well and truly banjoed. Whilst just five minutes previously she had genuinely considered flashing her tatty-bo-jangles at this bearded man, she was now flashing at him nothing more than her most disapproving arched eyebrow, accompanied of course with a beastly snarl.
In a moment that can only be described as a fusion of wild anger and genuine Kit-Kat appreciation, half-crazy piece of woman folk leant across the table, picked up the remaining slice of suddenly ugly male's chocolatey cake, and shred it between her teeth, like a starving walrus destroying the carcass of a young seal.
"Take that, you inconsiderate b*stard!" she hissed, as she abandoned the rest of her cuppa-delicious and stormed out of the cafe, beating his shins with her shopping bags on the way.
In moments of wild anger, it is customary practice for the majority of human beings to phone their partner/friend/mum/cat, and bitch about the world and its inhabitants. This is exactly what half-crazy piece of woman folk went to do the second that the doors of the cafe had slammed behind her. However, as her sweaty palm rummaged through her handbag whilst en route to mobile telecommunication device, she couldn't help but notice a very familiar piece of red foil packaging laying seductively on top of her purse.
Yes folks, there it was, in all its glory; the Kit Kat that she'd bought at the promenade cafe. Her Kit Kat. Pretty.Shitting.Awkward.
And the moral of this story is, always ensure that you are eating the right Kit Kat before you tut, swear, batter shins, and eat 75% of an innocent stranger's lunch.