I have previously blogged about my love for all things rainbow and unicorn, along with a picture of my majestic as fuck unicorn mug, which lives in my local caff-come-office.
Nobody is allowed to use it other than me, obvs, and the café crew just know to start making my tea, with my mug, when I walk in the door.
This has all worked well for the last three months, until last week-when five minutes after I walked in, no tea had been forthcoming and the café staff were starting to look a little bit nervous/shifty.
When I barked at them for my fucking tea, they finally had to come clean-they could not find my fucking unicorn mug.
Shit was about to get real.
We all searched high and low, in the dishwashers, between the other mugs, in cupboards, around the outside tables; innocent customers were harangued, viewed with suspicion, and narrowly avoided having their bags searched.
When we still came up dry, we decided that we needed to take a different approach:
Which we applied for a couple of hours. Time moved on, I had my tea from a clearly inferior, plain white mug, and got progressively more riled up.
Eventually, we decided that we were going to have to act quickly if we were ever going to see my mug again-after all, statistics say that the first 48 hours after an abduction are the most crucial time for a successful outcome.
However, before we started issuing the radios and reconstruction images, one of the other café staff popped in on her day off, and was promptly pounced upon to find out if, oh for the love of god, she had maybe seen my mug? Broken it accidentally and not said anything? Seen someone wearing a striped jumper and a swag bag making off with it?
It turned out that the previous day had been so busy that she had run a load of crockery through the small, little-used dishwasher in the back room, which nobody ever really uses…
AND THERE WAS MY MUG.
We promptly cancelled the search and amnesty, but by that point, people were bringing unicorns to us from far and wide, and we were getting a little bit overwhelmed
Now, I have a fucking majestic unicorn mug and his slightly special needs cousin for any future unicorn emergencies-and also, people continue to compliment me on my unicorn-drawing skills.
As I proudly said, “It’s not my first unicorn drawing, my friends.”
Secure your mugs, people.