Too Mortified to Speak
I am 6'5", about 18 Stone with extremely short hair (any rumours of covering up for minor baldness are just lies frankly) and I am not blessed with the grace of a ballet dancer. In short I look like a large nasty thug. Anyway, about three years ago I was standing on an up escalator at Oxford Circus and I suddenly had the notion I had left my phone on the train. I reached down into my right trouser pocket at a speed which only the loss of phone or wallet can engender. Of course I failed to notice the lady who was standing on the step immediately behind me.....not two steps away or even three as set down in unwritten Tube etiquette but one step....her nose and my elbow occupied the same space for a fraction of a second...... now to the independent third parties, of whom their were many, it looked like a very large thug elbowed a completely innocent lady in the face and walked off without a backward glance but in truth I just wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. The thought of trying to placate her and about another 6 people who rushed to her aid mortified me. So, yes, I am ashamed and would like to thank all those that helped her.......

I often wonder why I didn't stop. That would have been the right thing to do wouldn't it? My rationalisation is that there would have almost certainly been some little short-arsed no-brain wanker who would have leapt to the lady's defence and attempted to bandy words. As with most short-arsed hypothetical blokes he would have uttered words like "I bet you think you're tough don't you. Well I could have you any time you bastard". Attempts at rational discussion would have been fruitless and he would have ended up hurting himself and I would then have been accused of beating up two people rather than just being seen as callous by walking off. Reference to the police might then have revealed a similar incident in the West End some years earlier when I was caught on camera defending myself against another short-arsed little wanker who felt that me asking him not to keep bothering two of my female friends by drunkenly groping them whilst they were dancing really meant I wanted to accompany him outside and be target practice for his pudgy little ego. Regrettably I too was not entirely sober and agreed to the same. Was back inside before the frost on the outside of my Stella glass had disappeared and had a visit from the old bill not an hour later. Two nice PC's who told me to be more careful next time. Hence me walking away from the lady I elbowed...... so its all their fault and now I don't feel ashamed at all !!
( Spackweasel - because weasels get Downs Syndrome too, Wed 30 Nov 2005, 11:17, Reply)