Normal, slightly more mildly annoying than usual day at work.
The header on the shelves kept falling off, and wouldn't stay back up. As tallest in store, I have to put them up again, and put all the parcels back on the shelf every time it falls and knocks them off. Believe you me, after the first four times, you get pretty sick of it.
At least the dodgy air-conditioning isn't going "beep-beep, beep-beep" constantly today. It's just piddling bits of water and ice on the floor. And I've been distracted by the "radio-in-my-head" saying funny things all day.
Heading home took an interesting turn. Hurrying round the corner, texting, I ran straight into a group of townies yelling.
Then I notice the trail of blood. Pushing through the circle of them, there - in the middle, was an oldish fella, stinking of booze, bleeding heavily from his arm and hand. Turns out the chavs are trying to keep him in one place, not trying to hurt him
It's that beautiful moment of pure slow-time clarity, your brain hitting top gear in an instant; when each drop is perfectly captured in a split second, red jewels against the grey of the street, frozen mid-air...
So I rally round, calm everyone down, fly into MacDonalds, grab the first aider, ambulance sorted, and fly back out. There I am, trying to calm this rather drunk and angry guy (called Colin) down, and find out what happened. The first aider is being worse than useless, stood gawping. Turns out he punched a window through, lacerating his arm, and tearing open his hand. The ambulance people took him off to hospital, mind you, not before he accidently splashed some poor woman by waving it around too.
One thing stands out the clearest - one of his trainers was white, the other bright red and squishy...