Thursday, December 09, 2010

Fuck You

The other day, my mate Mark was sitting in a car park when something happens. Mark takes up the story: "I'm sat in the back seat talking to [my daughter] and a Mercedes pulls up and parks badly next to me. His driver door opens and he tries to wrestle a small child from the back seat to the front seat. His door hits my car. I breathe deeply and count to ten. Well, I get to eight and *bang*bang* another two hits.
Me: Mind the door please mate, it's a brand new car and I don't need scratches already.
Him: (Gets out and rubs my car) Sorry mate, it's not marked.
(I close door and continue talking to [my daughter])
His wife: We've all got new cars, what's his problem Blah blah blah
I see red and get out.
Me: What's your fucking problem?
Her: I was just saying...
Me: Well don't bother. You're in the wrong. Just shut up.
Him: Don't speak to her like that!
Me: OR WHAT? WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT?

By now I'm cringing inside because I'm like an extra from Jeremy Kyle, but I'm so sick of dealing with people in the wrong who seem to think they can do what they want.

Him: (silence)
Me to her: He apologised. It was done and dusted. You should've kept your mouth shut.
They walk off with their child."


Now, Mark felt really badly about this when he relayed the story to me a few days later. Me? I was fucking furious. I wouldn't have let the cheeky bitch get away with it. I would have been in her husband's face like a case of genital warts suggesting he keeps his wife's mouth shut or I'll have some fun rearranging her features with a spoon. But that's just me...

My mate Will loves going into Starbucks. I can't understand the attraction, especially as I drink a lot of good coffee at home; but he's far more sociable than me. This morning he's in one of his local branches and... let's let Will fill us in: I just think it's incredibly rude for someone to take all the crap from the table they want to sit at and dump it on the table you're sitting at. Why would I want that filthy shit more than you, asshole?
Will is a lovely bloke and rarely gets flustered by people. My response was: You should have punched them or pissed in their coffee then told them you have the pox.

Now, I think that's quite restrained for me.

The thing is I'm not a violent person, far from it. I haven't had anything like a physical confrontation in 30 years (unless you count punching the JW); but I have had some verbally violent ones; most often with neighbours or neighbours' relatives. You see, I have my grandmother's temper, but fortunately I haven't really got her psychopathic streak, otherwise I'd be doing time about now and worrying about how frayed my sphincter is going to get, either that or priding myself in my prison nickname of Pig Pen because of my refusal to go near the showers... But the point here is simple, why are there so many cunts out there?

I think we build up this expectation that we're going to meet an arsehole somewhere on our travels, so we prepare ourselves for the inevitable confrontation. I sometimes wish we could just pull a fucking Uzi out and machine gun these twats into oblivion; but that is a wee bit irrational and I could end up in a lot of trouble for suggesting it.

A few years ago, some guy cut me up really badly round the corner from where I live. He basically figured if he pulled out on me I'd stop or slow down and he took serious umbrage when i flashed him and called him a wanker with a nifty little hand gesture. The next thing I knew, he'd stopped his car and was banging on my window. I was so taken aback I refused to move. He screams at me through the window that he did nothing wrong and if I had to slow down I was obviously going too fast, so I should go fuck myself and if I didn't like that he'd help me with the aid of a baseball bat he keeps in the back of his car...

Oddly enough, the first thing that went through my mind was, "We live in England, why the fuck has he got a baseball bat in the boot of his car?"

I was telling my brother Steve about this a few weeks later and told him that I had made my mind up that any confrontation I get involved in from now on I was going to smile and walk away, to which he said, "Don't do that. A few months ago, I was involved in a fender bender. Some guy ran into the back of my car at the traffic lights. I got out of the car, saw he was twice my size and thought, 'I'm going to be very civil'. so I smiled at him and said, 'accidents happen mate.' to which the guy said, 'are you taking the piss, mate? And I'd take the fucking smile off of your face before I wipe it off.'"

The other day, I was taking the dogs for a walk down Morrisons on the Kettering Road. There's a little cut in where people park by the entrance to Bradlaugh Fields. It was getting close to chucking out time at the local schools, but I got there early, parked up and took the dogs out. When I got back there was a host of cars parked there; basically wherever they could squeeze in. they were all there to pick up their children from school, because the little darlings legs would obviously wear out if they walked and they couldn't possibly catch a bus because of the filthy perverts that use buses. One woman had parked directly in front of me and there was no way I could possibly get past her. I would have struggled on a push bike.

I got the dogs in the car and then debated with myself how to deal with this scenario. In the end, I figured calm and collected would suffice. I walked to her car; she could see me walking towards her in her rear view mirror, but made no effort to acknowledge me or that I was walking to her. I tapped on her window and she looked at me through the closed window. She made no effort to open the window, so I tapped again and made a winding down motion with my hand. The window opened to about a half an inch. "Do you think you could move your car please, I need to get out, thanks." She looked at me like I'd spoken in a foreign language and made no effort to move. "That isn't a problem, is it?"
"My daughter will be here in a few minutes, could you wait?"
"Not really, I need to get home."
"Oh, so you've collected your daughter and want to go straight away causing me a load of grief and that's okay is it?" I looked at her and did a double take at her rather irrational outburst.
"I've just taken my dogs for as walk; I haven't got a daughter to pick up and if I did, she could walk home. Now would you please move your car. You can park it where I'm moving from once I've gone." She looked at me really hurt, like I'd just told her that I was going to murder her mother if she didn't move.
"There's no need to get arsey with me!" She announces and for a second I could feel the bile rising. I wanted to say, "Arsey? You think I'm being arsey? Just sit there and do nothing you fucking ignorant bitch and I'll really show you what arsey is." But, I just smiled and said 'thank you'.

I swear she didn't look at anything else but me while she was moving her car. I could see her burning holes in me in her rear view mirror and when I pulled along side her to drive past, there she was, staring at me like I'd called her all the miserable cunts under the sun. I'd suggest it was possibly a very hormonal time of the month, but I'd probably be accused of being sexist; but, please. What was that all about? It also wasn't the first time I've seen people expect others to just sit patiently while they do things that cause untold aggravation for those behind them.

If I had a T-shirt made up with 'Most People Are Cunts' written on it, I'd get done for being offensive, despite the fact it is actually a statement of fact rather than an insult.

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Bad vibes came my way at 3.30pm today. Can't discuss it at the moment, but if its as bad as people are saying then... Happy fucking Christmas :(

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Listening to the Cee Lo Green album at the moment. I hate to admit it, but it's fucking excellent!

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