Bad Day

Preface: I was driving to San Diego one morning and I turned on the radio to hear a DJ say, "...a face that could clean your grill." It struck me as funny so when I got back home I wrote this so I could use it:

BAD DAY

Have you ever had,
A day so bad,
That nothing seems to go right?

Like when you're late,
To meet your blind date,
And you're stopped at every light.

When you finally arrive,
At Interstate five,
And you head for lane number one.

You're slowed by a bloke,
Who just wants to poke,
No faster than forty one.

You try to go 'round,
But find that you're bound,
With no visual means of escape.

You flash him your highs,
With a prayer and a sigh,
While glaring daggers of hate.

Then in a flash,
There's a chance to pass,
This slower than slug speed guy.

You jump at the chance,
And then with a glance,
You see your exit go by.

Suppressing your rage,
You look at the gauge,
You're almost plumb out of gas.
 
You're out in the woods,
Just as far as you could,
Not a single station you pass

You finally stop,
At an all night shop,
That really looks like a dump.

You wait like forever,
After lifting the lever,
'Cause they didn't reset the pump.

Back on the road,
You run over a toad,
With a "splat" that near makes you ill.

You're two hours late,
to meet this date,
A friend of your sister Jill.

When finally there,
You're acutely aware,
There's no place at all to park.

At last you pull in,
Perk up your chin,
And walk a mile in the dark.

You run up the stairs,
And take them in pairs,
'Cause she lives on the thirteenth floor.

You brush back your hair,
With a debonair flair,
And gently rap on the door.

The door opens wide,
You're beckoned inside,
You suddenly feel a chill.

'Cause there in the light,
She stood dressed in white,
With a face that could clean your grill.