The numbness starts to lift as I pavement pound Orchard Street. Heading towards the Oxford Street thrum, I realise I am Grade A-Motherfuckin’-Pissed Off. An old lady steps into my path with a mean eye and an intention; she wants me to move out of the way, or more accurately, she wants to tut at me and engage in a conflict of wills. But I am in no mood for such shenanigans and I return her look with one that says, quite simply, ‘Do not fuck around with me; I’m not in the mood.’ It’s enough. She steps aside, not even brushing my shopping bag. Now I just need to get past the family of four walking side-by-side across the pavement, in the same direction as me. Why do people do that? It's so bloody rude.
Friday, 14 March 2008
Shopping
The numbness starts to lift as I pavement pound Orchard Street. Heading towards the Oxford Street thrum, I realise I am Grade A-Motherfuckin’-Pissed Off. An old lady steps into my path with a mean eye and an intention; she wants me to move out of the way, or more accurately, she wants to tut at me and engage in a conflict of wills. But I am in no mood for such shenanigans and I return her look with one that says, quite simply, ‘Do not fuck around with me; I’m not in the mood.’ It’s enough. She steps aside, not even brushing my shopping bag. Now I just need to get past the family of four walking side-by-side across the pavement, in the same direction as me. Why do people do that? It's so bloody rude.
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6 comments:
I once walked down Oxford St and travelled the Tube carrying horizontally a 7ft cast iron curtain pole with sharp metal ends. That was very effective for motivating dawdlers and rude people to get out of my way (either that or be impaled on my curtain pole). Can recommend heartily.
P.S. Glad you're back, hope things went OK and hope you didn't do too much peeling back of layers, that sounds potentially painful
I hate that as well-I just keep walking and they eventually have to split to get by me.
Oh don't get me started on this topic. I've had to accept these sort of run-ins as part of my everyday in Berlin.
"Grade A-Motherfuckin'-Pissed Off" -- that's hardcore.
August
bloody rude and completely ignorant too.
Try what Capt S & I do when faced with thugs 5 abreast and no intention of moving - we stop suddenly and turn around pretending to look at/for something. Satisfaction guaranteed.
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