Wednesday, 14 April 2010
Runt Rage
I really surprised myself a couple of times over the past few days. The first was last Saturday. I was at work in town and had to take the car around to the garage to collect some gear. As I turned into the service road that leads to said garage, there was the usual line of Saturday morning shoppers' parked cars on the right side of the narrow, single track, dead end road. Those in the know get here early, because its one of the few roads in town that hasn't been included in the pay and display parking regulations, owing to a clerical error that the Council hasn't got around to rectifying. I will divulge the location for a small consideration.
Halfway down was a car with its door wide open and two men standing by it. There was no way I could get past, but I presumed that there maybe someone getting out of the car, so I came to a halt about 15 yards from them and waited. Sure enough, a little Yorkshire Terrier hopped out followed by a youngish woman. This geezer then turned around and saw me waiting patiently, he promptly ignored me, turned to his friend and then moved the door as if to close it, but only by a couple of inches. He then turned his back, without acknowledging me, and moved towards the car a touch but remained in the road casually talking to his chum. By now some 30 seconds had elapsed from the time I stopped.
Taking the half arsed effort with the door as his attempt to make room for me, I gently rolled down the slight slope, moving my car well over to the left to make as much space as I could. As I got level with the car, a foot suddenly appeared. It was a woman about to get out of this bloody parked car. She saw me and waited until I slowly rolled past and stopped outside the garage, about 20 yards further down the road. All this was done at a walking pace or less. I then heard a tirade of abuse and unintelligible utterances from this man, although I did manage to detect a rather cultured, plummy accent. I didn't hear what was said but stopped by the garage, about 20 yards past, got out and turned towards him saying, "I thought you'd finished. I didn't see anyone else in the car, I do apologise".
This chap, with the air of an up-his-own-arse barrister, then shouted out, "No don't you worry about us, we'll just stand here while you blast by. Next time I'll try and buy a car with a smaller door, just for you". I walked towards them and repeated my apology to the lady who by now had got out. She gave me a weak smile but ranting Reggie wanted his full erection and, retreating up the hill in the opposite direction with his chums in tow, continued to rant his same lines at me, over his shoulder. He clearly didn't want a close quarters chat. Perhaps the dark blue pinstripe suit I was wearing worried him? Lucky I wasn't in my motorcycle leathers or he might have set the police on me.
Rapidly losing interest, but with a final comment that came from somewhere out of the left field and even surprised me, I replied, "Once again, I apologise if I startled the lady, I thought you had finished getting out, I did not `blast` past as well you know. You just couldn't be bothered to acknowledge me and had you done so I would have gladly waitied a little longer - and there is no need for the sarcasm, sir". Where the `Sir` came from even shocked me and he clearly wasn't expecting it, because he did a double take and a pause, before regaining what was left of the testosterone and started to rant over his shoulder again as they hurried off. The lady started to remonstrate with him, but I had now totally lost interest. I even had a little chuckle at this rather odd, skinny little toff-runt. Perhaps he had a `condition`?
I satisfied myself in the knowledge that I hadn't let him wind me up, that I had maintained my original intention to apologise for what was a very minor matter with no harm done. I felt rather sorry for this pencil necked jerk who had more than likely embarrassed his companions in his attempt to appear a knight in shining armour to them. I feared that one day he would try this on the wrong person and add to some poor police forces crime statistics as a victim of road rage GBH. There must be something wrong with me. Perhaps I'm going all soft? Nah, he was just being an arsepipe (and I'll definitely recognise him again....:)
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17 comments:
He probably felt inferior to the yorkie.
After it l am sure it was being hugged by a pretty woman while sitting on her lap, cuddled up to her ti.... well err anyhow umm and licking her face while drooling all over her. All he had going was a big mouth and no manners and finally abuse by a female.
I can retain my cool in some of these situations but not others, but I am learning. Staying calm is most of the battle.
In Thailand they have the concept of "losing face". Once any party to any kind of discussion has lost face they have lost the argument. So when haggling the person who raises their voice or loses their rag loses by default. The result is a much calmer more polite society which of course enables people not to lose face in the first place. It's a virtuous circle. We used to have a similar culture here of polite disagreement but now enough of us Brits are total cockjocks that the culture has fallen apart.
It does shock me when supposedly educated well brought up people lose their cool. The comforts of a solid upbringing should make people less insecure, surely?
I have a feeling that during the next few days, the gentleman is either going to have flashbacks of the incident, realise what a tool he was and cringe at his actions, which could be considered suitable punishment, or he's going to further mentally embroider the situation over just how masculine he is. If the latter is the case, then it could also be considered the punishment for being that sort of person is the fact that he IS that sort of person. Punitive indeed.
You're a better man than me - I'd have hosed him down with twice as much verbal filth from close quarters ... and then been tempted to do his car - in a non aggressive loving way of course.
I would then have felt bad at not coming out with a killer witty quip instead
Good for you!
Sounds like his testosterone levels have drowned out the few brain cells he might once have been credited with.
Somewhere below that neanderthal exterior let's hope his instincts gnaw away at him that he behaved like a complete and utter prat.
Nice to hear of intellect stuffing machismo for a change.
I would have come out wit a witty and cutting remark...About 2 hours too late. :-(
Hi Gang. Thanks for the very interesting comments. What a `petit merde` he really was, with his plummy accent adding a little ire to my irritation. I have dubbed him, `the smallest dick in town`.
Vetnurse: Yes, and this happened in Yorkshire too, where they say what they like and they like what the bloody well say - perhaps he was just a Yorkie cliche? Either way, it reinforces my feelings about the average dog being nicer than the average person.
Blue: I met some Thai youngsters recently and they absolutely mirrored your description. They do get a bit rough in a boxing ring, I hear, but isn't that the best place to sort out all this bollocks? I wouldn't mind betting he was head of the County Social Services.
Sparkflash: I do hope so. What a pathetic little morsel. I've passed bigger bits of debris through my digestive system - hang on, I think we've diagnosed his problem. Cheaper than a shrink by far ;)
SOC: I really did run your chosen tactic past my mental checklist of options - and I had a box full of ammo to use - but somehow I felt a whole lot better. I'm either getting softer..... or smarter:)
Analyst: To quote a Robin Williams line from `Good Morning Vietnam` never was a man more in dire need of a blow job than him.
Tony: I hate it when that happens. I'd write it down and then never find the place to use it!
This kind of normal behaviour just won't do Hog. Clearly, these people were potential terrorists, trying out a new dog bombing strategy. You are just not up to speed with the new Paranoid Policing directive. You should have made an arrest under the suss law of going equipped as a middle-class tosser likely to be able to pay the relevant fixed penalty. My understanding is this offence now replaces drunk and disorderly on economic grounds. The terrorism is of course implied by possession of a Yorkie without a poop-scooper.
Thanks for the tip Allcopped, all I could think of at the time was a vengeful `3 car door handles`, as there were plenty to choose from. I am clearly losing my edge and decision making ability when finding myself spoilt for choice!
Yup. You've gone soft.
They sell drugs for that you know.
Hi DC and thanks for the brotherly `heads-up`. I couldn't have taken that from anyone else ;) May I borrow your dog eared copy of that USMC favourite by Sun Tzu?
Is that the same black cat I just saw walking past twice?
Correct Mister Anderson...and I think it went Ne-ow, Ne-ow
I'm not sure there is anything left to say on this, given the non-possession of "aggressive orange juice" by relevant parties.
Ok Ok, its time to post something else :) Its been a bit dull in my head lately, I may even have to make something up - after all, it's election time.
I fancy something on the Dead Dog principle. Dead dogs can be made into a valuable commodity once on creates the entrepreneurial insight that people might pay you not to leave lorry-loads of them parked outside their homes. One might parade particularly vicious dead dog futures up and down their pathways to facilitate payment. Could this be the basis for the new policing model?
"Its been a bit dull in my head lately"
I'm sure you can think of something to whet the appetites of us sedentary punters. Perhaps something from your firearms days? Guns are always macho and exciting.
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