Angry

With a deft sweep of his right hand he cleared space on the desk for his box of juices. Three drippers and a coil of wire failed to comply with the delicate operation and tumbled to the floor whereupon the coil of wire transformed itself into a piece of modern art. Jeremy hated art. Jeremy hated everything at the moment. He held a particular loathing for inanimate things that didn’t automatically guess where they should be and what they should be doing. He let out an exasperated sigh and growled as he bent down to collect the nest of metal.

“I mean, what the…” And silence punched him in the mouth. Like every other person who rightly believed that nothing in life was more important than vaping, Jeremy took great umbrage at the comment he’d just read on Twitter. He got annoyed when his old boss called his professionalism into question after he’d thrown a steak slice at a customer. For goodness sake, the customer deserved it seeing as they’d had the temerity to question its “Freshly Baked” status. He was incandescent when the traffic warden gave him a ticket. It’s not like the damn traffic was waiting for long and no one walks from the car park to the Post Office in the rain.

Life just didn’t run correctly for Jeremy. It was full of idiots but, worse, they were idiots who always thought the wrong things. Like his wife. Only yesterday they were travelling back up from Southampton and she took the M40 instead of continuing on the A34 to Northampton and joining the M1 there. He punched the dashboard and spat: “What’s the bloody point of building an excellent dual-carriageway if nobody is going to use it?” Northampton Roadchef does a good coffee too. Jeremy drank too much coffee.

Dripping some of Stealthvape’s new Ladybits eliquid onto the coil, his gaze returned to the monitor. Re-reading the thing that made him angry reminded him of how irate he was. It also caused him to forget to pay attention to the other thing he was in the process of doing – and juice flowed from the air holes. “Oh for the love of fu..!”

How the blinking flip could this person not be convinced by the efficacy of vaping? How could anybody not automatically discount anything negative published on the subject of electronic cigarettes? It was tantamount to The Internet calling him a moron. The last person to do that was the bloke in the petrol station to which Jeremy produced a gold-medal winning sulk.

The keyboard was attacked with fury. One hundred and forty characters of expletives questioned if the anonymous tweeter had an IQ over 75 and likened him or her to various parts of the human anatomy. Jeremy sat back. He felt as though the storm of emotions had passed. “Let that put you straight,” he spoke to no one. Jeremy knew that if this person had any kind of intelligence they’d take his abuse on board and question their entire position on the matter. He knew he’d just performed a great service to vapers everywhere. He mopped the side of the mod with some tissue and luxuriated in a deep inhale.

Then a notification message popped up.