Putting my foot in it

Oops. If only i could turn back the hands of time.

‘Fuck off Mr. Lowenstein, fuck right off! And you know what, it was me with your wife at the Christmas party you clueless son of a bitch!’ And with that I stormed out. I’d finally done it, I’d quit my job and in some degree of style I might add, except I don’t think Mr. Lowenstein was actually married, in fact I’m pretty sure his wife died of cancer a few years ago.

The looks I got as I left the office were one’s of, ‘Don’t you feel like a cunt now.’