Alas, I am also a victim of milk theft, in fact you could say it has ruined my life. It was almost to the day seven years ago, it was my now ex wife's birthday and I was preparing to bake her the most delicious cake you could possibly think of. At the sound of my 7:00AM alarm I had rolled out of bed and scampered downstairs full of vim and vigor, ready to tackle the day and bake the best birthday cake that had ever been baked. It was at this moment the my entire life started to unravel in a way I could not imagine. I went and opened my front door and stepped out to collect the milk I would need to bake the cake, but to my alarm my milk was not there. My milk had been stolen. I was suddenly bathed in a cold sweat and I could feel my knees go weak, that milk was the key to my entire cake baking recipe and some abhorrent low life had swindled me out of my precious milk. Once I had recovered from my intial consternation from this dairy monstrosity I began to think clearly again; it was two hours until my local cornershop opened, I could walk there and buy some more milk and still have time to bake my cake. After two hours of fretting I set off for the cornershop to buy my milk. It did not take long to walk there and as I opened the door to the shop I gave a warm greeting to Jerry the shopkeeper and I made my way to where the milk was stored near the rear of the shop. I was in luck, there sat with it's golden crown on, full 5% fat Jersey milk. I grasped it and felt it's cool beads of perspiration under my hands. Heaven. I would only need one bottle for the cake but I decided to be naughty and buy another bottle, just for myself. As I left the shop suddenly content that all was right in the world, I felt compelled to make a quick visit to the shopping centre to buy my wife and extra birthday present, so I called a taxi to take me there. I decided to buy her a necklace so I went into John Lewis' jewellery section in seek of one. It was not long until I found the perfect one, it was heart shaped and 24 carat gold. I asked for it to be gift wrapped and as I felt in my pocket for my wallet to pay for it I realised my wallet was no longer there. I must of left it in the taxi by mistake. Damn! I explained to the cashier that I had lost my wallet and as I was exiting the store through the perfume and aftersahve section some thick-headed numskull turned around asking if I wanted to sample the new Calvin Klein aftershave while simultaneously spraying it anyway. Now because I am a short man a sizeable splash of it went straight into my face and into my eyes. Not waiting for the gallumping oaf to do anymore damage I staggerd out of the shop, eyes streaming, to the sound of apologies from the teenager who had just maced me with Calvin Klein. I stumbled out of the shopping centre and decided to just go home. I set off back hoome but before I knew what happened, WHAM! something hit my hard and I went flying across the road that I had been trying to cross, stil half blinded by the aftershave attack. The owner of the car came rushing out to see if I was ok, I mumbled that I was fine but he insisted that he drive me to the hospital so I could get checked out. I initially protested but my legs still felt weak and my eyes were still red a swollen so I finally consented. This tunred out yet to be another mistake, after a 5 hours wait in A&E and then a further 2 hours of getting tests done before I was told my legs were just bruised and my eyes just needed a quick wash, I left the hospital at 5 in the afternoon. What made it worse was that the hospital was 5 miles from home and because I had left my wallet in the taxi and had left my mobile at home, I had no other option than to walk home. After almost two hours of stiffly trudging home I needed I quick rest and sat down to drink one of the pints of milk, I half opened the foil top and started drinking from it, then suddenly the foil top came all the way off and the rest of the milk sloshed all over my face. I sighed, resigned to the fact that this was the day where everything would go wrong, I got up and started to make my way back home. As I rounded the corner to my street a bunch of kids were playing football and as I passed them an errant ball came my way and smashed into my one remaining milk pint, spilling milk all over my midriff and crotch. The kids laughed and ran after the ball, I dropped the shattered glass into a bin and walked up the steps to my house. My wife was waiting for me as I entered the house, waiting to scream at me for disappearing for here entire birthday, but as she turned around and saw me standing in the hallway with milk splatterd all over my face, midriff annd crotch, and reeking of unfamiliar aftershave, she took a long look at me and before I could utter a word she grabbed her car keys and ran out of the door. We have now been divorced for almost seven years, she got sole custody of our baby girl and the alimony has forced me to take an extra job as a janitor in a porno theatre. All because some bastard stole my milk. I hope the Milkybar Kid spares him no mercy.
