Had a big run-in with Lesbian sticker lady this morning. I’d just got up and the new Nespresso machine had broken because I’d made about a hundred coffees last night and was more wired than Charlie Sheen on prime time. I slipped out of the flat in my housecoat to go to Starbucks.
I was in the line, happy in the knowledge that a quadruple macchiato was soon to be mine when I spotted her. She was clearly on a mission as she had two huge rolls of stickers and was wearing the long coat she thinks makes her invisible. I threw the money at the McBarrista, grabbed my caffeine and sprinted after her. I got to the corner just as she approached the Quattroporte. She didn’t hang about. Within seconds she was plastering stuff all over the windscreen. I saw red – I downed the macchiato and, super-charged, I ran at her.
I don’t think she heard me coming as she tends to hum to herself when she’s “working”. I hit her like she was a quarterback and my Super Bowl depended on it. We both flew through the air and landed on top of each other in the road. I saw one of the stickers, it read – “This man killed my puppies”. She was beyond insane. I held her down and shouted at passers-by to get the police. Like typical Brits, they ignored me and walked on. Suddenly, a car stopped and a guy got out… but he attacked me and we started grappling while she ran away. The electric-shock thing comes from South Africa soon – my day will come. Cooper Out.