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Tuesday, August 29, 2006

 

Bite back

There are times when you just want to let rip. It can’t be human can it to expect someone to put up with personal insults without at some stage blowing their stack. Nearly did it myself today. I mean it’s just not possible to keep it behind my herkos odonton (Attic Greek for ‘Hedge of my teeth’, also a Greek idiom for ‘Top Secret’).

It helps that I’m normally a fairly calm and placid person (Sometimes too bloody placid) by nature, or by now I would have turned around and lamped someone into the middle of the last century (This is very possible, I’m a big guy and I know how to punch).

Today’s annoyance was a bunch of late teens playing ‘Razz the Parking Enforcer’. Normally I can run circles around the thick little gits, but today every stratagem I used fell flat. The old ‘rope a dope’ fell flat because they were too thick to take a hint, as did the polite ‘How can I help you’ and the patented Bill Sticker full on eye contact flat stare. In the end I was forced to stop what I was doing and go to a direct challenge; “Okay girls, what do you want?” Upon reflection, I think it was the “Okay girls” that let them know that this was the wire that they were forcing me down to. At this point I was backed into a corner and had my left hand on my emergency radio button and my right hand down by my side ready to block or counter, body ready to turn. I wasn’t scared, just annoyed. A bunch of flaming bored kids were trying to push me around and I just hadn’t got time to play their silly bloody game.

“Better man than you, cunt.” Responded the bravest.
“Yeah, right.” No way was I backing down, but I wasn’t going to escalate unless they did because that’s what the little bastards wanted. Tactically I’d already decided; use their strength of numbers against them. Use one as a human shield / weapon against a possible knife, or even worse, a gun. At least that way one of them would get kicked to shit / stabbed / shot first and not me. Not that these kids were that tough. This was just a game to them. No CCTV coverage around here, and I know the worlds worst CCTV operator is on duty this afternoon, so no help unless a passing squad car pops out for an impromptu run round the back streets. Besides, calling for help is an escalation – exactly what they were after. Like all pack predators, they only pick on the weak; so I went for the all out bluff.
“Come on, come on, I’m a busy man. Cars to book, people to piss off. You know how it is.” I tapped my steel toecapped boot impatiently, folding my arms with a stern schoolmasterish (Well, at least from my schooldays) look. That was it, the ice broke and they all laughed and turned away, game over. I know I’m not allowed to speak to people like that, and if my managers found out I’d be in shit so deep that I’d never dig my way out. Not that a bunch of kids are going to file a formal complaint. Lucky for me, eh?

There are some things I can do without; and close shaves like that are one of them. Incidentally; no I didn’t fill in a sodding incident form. That would be really asking for trouble.

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Location: British Columbia, Canada

Exasperated expatriate expostulations all the way from British Columbia, Canada. As if anyone really cared. Oh, I also watch Icelandic Volcanoes and seismic activity. Don't ask me why.

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