|Humor Me| ::A Michael McIntyre Story::

::Chapter 1.2:: {Talk Of Paris}

Michael McIntyre's POV:

I took a quick glance at my watch as I sauntered down the street to where I had parked my vehicle.

I pulled a set of silver keys out of my right trouser pocket, nearly ripping the black fabric by taking out the sharp objects too quickly.

I nearly jammed the small piece of metal into the lock in the driver's door and twisted the life out of it.

It's happened to be one of those moments when you're in a hurry, and you attempt to do things faster to save you time...

Yet it seems the quicker you try to go the more mistakes you make, which means the more time you spend trying to fix them...

After multiple times I finally was able to open the heavy door to my black car and hop into the seat just before slamming it shut once more.

At this point I felt like I was in a race with myself, putting my seat belt on at full speed and getting pissed off when it wouldn't 'click' shut.

I stuck the key into the ignition and turned it, checking my rear view mirror to make sure no cars were coming up from behind.

When I was assured of this, I pulled out of my parking space and spun the wheel so that I could exit myself onto the main road.

I shook my head slightly to get the excess water out of my brown locks which had been thoroughly soaked with raindrops.

The liquid had covered the entire windshield, but did I care at the moment? Not so much, the only thing that worried me was getting the boys on time.

There was only one thing that could make my frustration even funnier at at time like this... and when I say funnier, I mean to other people...

Definitely not to me...

And that one thing is: Traffic. People have nightmares about this sort of thing in London. London traffic is the worst.

I can just imagine people waking up in the middle of the night screaming, waking and worrying their spouses.

When they ask 'What's the matter dear?' and they go 'I had a nightmare!' and then they ask once more 'What was it about?'

And that is when the shock comes... 'Traffic!' it's bloody terrible and it was starting to irritate me to no end.

The worst part was it wasn't even fast traffic, it was the variety in which you inch along going about two feet every five minutes.

I let out a huff of air and honked my horn out of aggravated frustration. It was pure impulse, and no matter how rude it may have been it was necessary.

They would be wondering where I was about now, and I was only relieved when I finally started moving at a fast pace.

I was almost near Bexley, where Kitty and her current husband Lawrence reside, in their 'oh so wonderful' abode.

It still pains me to even consider thinking about the situation we were in at the moment... divorced...

I had given my love, the only thing I had at one point, to her and she completely toyed with it and taken advantage of it.

Before I had made it in the world, and even amounted to anything my feelings and talent was all I possessed.

Needless to say I don't even bother with that sort of love anymore considering it never lasts in the first place.

I had made a promise to myself when I was very young. If I was lucky enough to even grasp a woman's attention that is.

I promised I would never make the choices my parents made, which was getting divorced... I broke that.