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» Pure Fury
Strangely angry train man.
I'll be the first (well, maybe after some prompting) that my people skills are occasionally lacking, which results in me being left baffled in a variety of situations. However, one time recently left me confused as to why the man in question thought this was acceptable behaviour.
I was approaching a three-seater bench at the end of a working day in the train station. I was knackered, footsore and just wanted to sit down. On this bench was a rather large gentleman. A rather large gentleman in his mid fifties, wearing thick jam-jar glasses, a suit jacket that had never seen an iron, and teeth that would keep a cosmetic dentist on the gravy train for life. He was occupying one and a half seats, and his bag the second half of the other one.
On the third, and in my way, was an empty bottle of strawberry milkshake. Shifting it out of my way to sit down, he suddenly very aggressively leaned over, and shouted at me "Why did you move that?!" as though I had committed some gross personal offence and insulted his honour. Not liking his tone, I simply said "So I could sit down. And there's no need to be so rude and aggressive." Looking back, I found my tone quite reasonable, given the behaviour of the angry mound of wrinkly blubber sharing the bench with me. Thinking that was the end of it, I slipped on a pair of headphones and ignored him. Sadly it was not to be.
A couple of minutes later, I hear the train being announced over the calming sound of Vaughan Williams. Standing up to go to the edge of the platform, I get a tap on my shoulder. I turned round to see my earlier, and angry, conversational partner standing directly behind me, bellowing at me to move down the platform so he could be first in line. Laughing at him and saying "No", he shouts his request again, and louder this time. Ignoring the request, I advised him to perhaps consider calming down as it wouldn't be doing his blood pressure any good, and hinting at the possibility of a heart attack for good measure. I then turned round again, telling him I was ignoring him.
Another shoulder tap, and another repeated order to move down the platform. "Leave it fella", I said. "It just isn't worth it". "I never leave things, I always finish them" said the man, taking off his glasses, and by now turning a rather unhealthy shade of puce. I turned round again, and looked around. People were staring at this man, transfixed, yet not doing anything. Well, they can hardly be expected to tangle with a clearly mental individual, I suppose.
Then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the train coming in, down the platform. I stepped smartly off, picking a random place on the platform, and the train came to a halt with the doors smartly in front of me. The puce-faced man now turned a rather unhealthy shade of purple, before picking a different set of doors with which to get on the train. Well, he did say to move...
Reflecting on all of this later though, I bear the man no ill-will or wish him to fall off a cliff or whatever. I only pity the man. I mean, who considers starting confrontations in train stations over an empty bottle of strawberry milkshake to be reasonable behaviour? How bad must his life actually be?
TL:DR- Angry man in train station tries to cause a fight over something pointless.
(Thu 26th Sep 2013, 14:54, More)
Strangely angry train man.
I'll be the first (well, maybe after some prompting) that my people skills are occasionally lacking, which results in me being left baffled in a variety of situations. However, one time recently left me confused as to why the man in question thought this was acceptable behaviour.
I was approaching a three-seater bench at the end of a working day in the train station. I was knackered, footsore and just wanted to sit down. On this bench was a rather large gentleman. A rather large gentleman in his mid fifties, wearing thick jam-jar glasses, a suit jacket that had never seen an iron, and teeth that would keep a cosmetic dentist on the gravy train for life. He was occupying one and a half seats, and his bag the second half of the other one.
On the third, and in my way, was an empty bottle of strawberry milkshake. Shifting it out of my way to sit down, he suddenly very aggressively leaned over, and shouted at me "Why did you move that?!" as though I had committed some gross personal offence and insulted his honour. Not liking his tone, I simply said "So I could sit down. And there's no need to be so rude and aggressive." Looking back, I found my tone quite reasonable, given the behaviour of the angry mound of wrinkly blubber sharing the bench with me. Thinking that was the end of it, I slipped on a pair of headphones and ignored him. Sadly it was not to be.
A couple of minutes later, I hear the train being announced over the calming sound of Vaughan Williams. Standing up to go to the edge of the platform, I get a tap on my shoulder. I turned round to see my earlier, and angry, conversational partner standing directly behind me, bellowing at me to move down the platform so he could be first in line. Laughing at him and saying "No", he shouts his request again, and louder this time. Ignoring the request, I advised him to perhaps consider calming down as it wouldn't be doing his blood pressure any good, and hinting at the possibility of a heart attack for good measure. I then turned round again, telling him I was ignoring him.
Another shoulder tap, and another repeated order to move down the platform. "Leave it fella", I said. "It just isn't worth it". "I never leave things, I always finish them" said the man, taking off his glasses, and by now turning a rather unhealthy shade of puce. I turned round again, and looked around. People were staring at this man, transfixed, yet not doing anything. Well, they can hardly be expected to tangle with a clearly mental individual, I suppose.
Then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the train coming in, down the platform. I stepped smartly off, picking a random place on the platform, and the train came to a halt with the doors smartly in front of me. The puce-faced man now turned a rather unhealthy shade of purple, before picking a different set of doors with which to get on the train. Well, he did say to move...
Reflecting on all of this later though, I bear the man no ill-will or wish him to fall off a cliff or whatever. I only pity the man. I mean, who considers starting confrontations in train stations over an empty bottle of strawberry milkshake to be reasonable behaviour? How bad must his life actually be?
TL:DR- Angry man in train station tries to cause a fight over something pointless.
(Thu 26th Sep 2013, 14:54, More)
» School Assemblies
I was *that* kid.
The one who held it in during assembly on a cold, wooden parquet floor. After setting off the whole primary school, I was forced to write a letter of apology to the headteacher.
Also, to whichever shit put "Sing Hosanna" in my head, thanks, you cunt. I hope you're happy.
(Fri 14th Jun 2013, 12:03, More)
I was *that* kid.
The one who held it in during assembly on a cold, wooden parquet floor. After setting off the whole primary school, I was forced to write a letter of apology to the headteacher.
Also, to whichever shit put "Sing Hosanna" in my head, thanks, you cunt. I hope you're happy.
(Fri 14th Jun 2013, 12:03, More)
» Twat Friends
It's usually me.
Either being made a twat of, or doing it quite nicely on my own. I've lost count the number of times I've been at a house party, get completely blotto voce, and wake up in the morning to looks so frosty they could double up as a freeze ray. Luckily, that hasn't happened in recent years, probably because I stopped going to those sort of parties.
One that springs immediately to mind, apart from severely offending birthday girls, accidentally insulting the party hosts, or generally pissing off all and sundry would be a b3ta bash held in Cambridgeshire. I had come into possession of a green, dusty substance popular with the students, which I smoke with great gusto. And then got so hungry I got the munchies, only to be told the morning after that they'd been loaded.
So all of this lead to me losing my little baggy, loudly going round the garden, shouting to all and sundry if anyone had seen it. What a twat. Drugs are bad, mmmkay?
(Thu 19th Sep 2013, 14:20, More)
It's usually me.
Either being made a twat of, or doing it quite nicely on my own. I've lost count the number of times I've been at a house party, get completely blotto voce, and wake up in the morning to looks so frosty they could double up as a freeze ray. Luckily, that hasn't happened in recent years, probably because I stopped going to those sort of parties.
One that springs immediately to mind, apart from severely offending birthday girls, accidentally insulting the party hosts, or generally pissing off all and sundry would be a b3ta bash held in Cambridgeshire. I had come into possession of a green, dusty substance popular with the students, which I smoke with great gusto. And then got so hungry I got the munchies, only to be told the morning after that they'd been loaded.
So all of this lead to me losing my little baggy, loudly going round the garden, shouting to all and sundry if anyone had seen it. What a twat. Drugs are bad, mmmkay?
(Thu 19th Sep 2013, 14:20, More)