August 2 - A Spot of Bother at the Lift

Right, so I was on the lift and the doors were closing, and I could tell that the last two people weren't going to make it, so I gave them a nice double barrel attack of the middle fingers as the doors were closing, you know, just for a laugh. A bit of the old insult to injury, you know, as the last thing the miserable sods see before the doors close is my ugly mug flipping them a couple of birds.
Would've been brilliant but some helpful bloke behind me hit the door open button at the last possible second, and I had to back up and make room for them and try to pretend like the whole digit flipping incident never happened. And the really awkward part was that neither of them acknowledged it and we all just rode up together in silence like you always do on the goddamn lift.
But naturally the ride took forever because the lift stopped at every floor, and of course the person who wanted to get off was in the back of the lift, so the geezer I'd flipped off had to get off to let them by, and every time he got back on the lift, that metal hat rack contraption his IV drip was hanging on got caught in the tracks of the sliding doors and his naughty slag of a nurse had to help him dig it out, the miserable bastard.
So anyway, I get to the room and there's Kelly and we hug and everything, and I'm like, Where's your dad? Is that one him? indicating some bloke asleep on the other side of the room. And she's just about to tell me no when the IV geezer from the lift shuffles in and of course he's her father, and after they get through all that pratter about how you doing and all that, she introduces us, and he's far cooler about it than his nurse. He even smiles a bit in a let bygones be bygones kind of way, but his nurse just glowers at me like she caught me trying to nick a tenner from the collection jar at the nurses' station, the old crow.
Anyways, the visit is OK, I guess, but after the first few minutes it's pretty clear that my services aren't needed there anymore, it's all about Kelly and her dad, so I just sit on the extra chair like a bit of last Sunday's pasties.
And then about 14 hours later when we're finally allowed to leave, old Mr. Magnanimous makes a big show of getting up out of bed and shaking me hand again, which was brilliant because by then I'd all but forgotten that I was supposed to feel like a tool for flipping him off all those hours ago.
As far as first meetings go, I suppose mine and Kelly's pop's wasn't the worst one ever, but I think I'm always going to hold a bit of grudge for him not giving me any grief over the lift incident. If he'd just unleashed a spot of the old vitriol on me and then was shut of it, we could have gotten on with our lives. Instead he treated me nicely and I felt like a right twat for the rest of the day. Don't know if I'll ever be able to let that one go.