» I witnessed a crime

The polite mugger
I went to London to gawp at the big city and was excitedly standing on an underground platform waiting for the tube. In front of me was a small crowd of people including a girl at the front with a shoulder bag and, I noticed, a young black guy who appeared very nervy. He was twitching shiftily and my Guardian-reader head said 'Maybe he's on his way to take an exam,' but my Daily Mail head said 'well why is he sweating and looking shiftily at that girl's bag then?' My two minds conferred and came to the right-wing conclusion that he was about to commit a financially motivated malfeasance.

So, do I call the girl over on some pretext and defuse the situation or do I shout 'Look out love, there's a mugger behind you?'

Or, soft cunt, do I stand there like a lemon hoping everything will be OK?

Guess.

Anyway, tube train pulls up, girl steps toward doors, mugger grabs bag, turns and rapidly pushes his way back through the throng, almost pushing people over and suddenly he is face to face with yours truly.

It seems like a slow-motion moment and as we eyeball each other he actually says 'Excuse me!!!'

Well, being British, I stand aside and let him through as girl without handbag legs it after him! (At least I avoided the temptation to respond 'Certainly, young man' as I stepped aside.)

Oh, the shame.
Oh the horror, the horror...
(Mon 18th Feb 2008, 9:48, More)

» Cringe!

Cringe!
I used to work in a special ed school and went on a one-day conference on reducing truancy or something equally worthy. After a series of not very interesting speeches we were split into the inevitable workgroups - one large group for each geographical area of the city. Because these were inner-city comprehensives the groups were averaging 20 to 30 teachers each.

I was directed to the table for special needs staff next to which was standing one solitary teacher who happened to be a dwarf, standing a good 3'10" tall. "Well," I said in my best friendly voice, " What a tiny little group this is! I mean, small, you know, not very big. Minute really."

The silence was long and deafening.
(Mon 1st Dec 2008, 11:10, More)

» Apparently I'm a sex offender

they think I'm a tranny!
Late one Sunday night I had a bath and just wanted to watch TV for half an hour before hitting the hay. In those days I didn't wear pyjamas but I needed something to stop myself feeling the cold. The only thing to hand was my wife's dressing gown which was bright pink and covered in flowery patterns, but what the hell.
Anyway I'm sitting in front of the TV and the doorbell goes. Wifey answers it and it's the guy next door wanting to borrow my electric drill. He looks at me, doesn't say much but a faint smile flickers across his face. He gets the drill and goes.
Years later his wife (after they have split up) tells me that on that night he came back with the drill and said to her "I don't know what kind of pervy scene I just walked in on at Ferg's house but he's sitting there in a full woman's evening dress!"
(Fri 18th Aug 2006, 22:34, More)

» Never Meet Your Heroes

Jimmy Saville
My boss Jason was once a very keen athlete and started running seriously when quite young. One of his big heroes as a kid (courtesy of 'Jim'll Fix It') was Jimmy Saville.
One day Jay took part in a long charity run and after a while spotted the blonde Yorkshireman some way ahead, cigar in mouth as usual.
Eager to greet his great hero he put on the best spurt his youthful legs could manage and caught up with the great man.
'Hi Jimmy, my name's Jason. Pleased to meet you!'
The Great JS's reply?
'Fuck off'
(Sun 28th May 2006, 15:23, More)

» Family Feuds

Prunes and the Aunty from Hell
My sister and I used to get sent up to Scotland regularly to stay with my Aunty and, at the age of five when my Dad started dying of cancer, the visits got longer and longer. At the time, the only food I really couldn't stomach was prunes and even though she knew I hated them she provided them at the end of a meal at least once a week.

Well, one day she invited her friend round for dinner and tried to impress her with her culinary skills including (you've guessed it) prunes for dessert. Gagging on every mouthful, I begged to be excused but all I got was fierce shouts of 'Eat them up!'

The inevitable happened and as I swallowed the last one the entire bowlful rose in my throat and I vomited them spectacularly (and accurately) back into the bowl. And yes folks, she instructed me to eat them again!!!

I was only saved from this ordeal by my older sister sticking up for me and saving me from purgatory.
Well, the old dear is dead now and I still don't like prunes.
(Thu 12th Nov 2009, 14:17, More)