I blame Batman. If you haven’t seen The Dark Knight yet, it’s definitely worth it, but it is very dark and could well lead you to vengeful outbursts and a general sense of hatred towards the rest of the world. Or maybe it’s just me in another grumpy mood. The last time I felt as angry as I did yesterday, I’d eaten 2oz of beef while Erik was away. Not so bad, except I claim to be a vegetarian. I wrote something about it here
I knew something was up yesterday when I realised that I was walking around like a bloke looking for a fight, fists clenched, shoulders hunched and a bit stompy. I’ve recently started lifting weights at the gym and using protein powders so I already think I’m tough, even if by ‘recently’ I mean less than a week ago.
I wasn’t in a particularly good mood when I went to collect a client that I regularly take grocery shopping and I drove up there blasting my angry music of choice – Death on Two Legs by Queen. I rolled the windows down so I could potentially annoy any passing pedestrians or motorists that had their windows open too. As it was close to 100 degrees outside, no-one else was as stupid as me.
As we were pulling out of my client’s drive, a largeish moving truck came from the other end of the road and parked in the middle of the street, blocking us. I could have turned right and taken a different exit but it would have made our journey slightly longer and I’d have missed the chance for a confrontation. So I pulled up behind the truck and waited until one of the removal men came over and I said something along the lines of ‘you’re blocking the road’. He apologised and said they’d be about 5 minutes. I decided I didn’t like his attitude so I got a bit higher on my horse and started on about public highways and rights of access. I felt that surge of Bat power in knowing I was protecting my city’s streets against the scourge of inconveniently parked moving trucks and adopted a suitably haughty British tone.
As no-one seemed to be taking any notice, and my client was completely silent, I turned the car around and started heading off the other way, muttering about inconsiderate common workmen. I still had the window down and heard one of the men yell something. I could have ignored it but instead I pulled a movie move – stamped on the brakes, put the car in reverse and drove back to the truck. I then got out of the car and demanded to know who had said what. They stood around (never a sign of a good removal company) and laughed. I then blew it by calling them a bunch of fucking idiots. I knew as I said it that I’d lost the game – I could have called them tossers, wankers, twats or any other Britishism and thanks to their ignorance, held the linguistic upper hand. Instead one of the removers made some comment about it being ‘not very ladylike to cuss’ which made me even angrier. So I demanded to know what company they represented as there was no sign on the truck – I wish I’d realised sooner that they were all wearing company shirts. I got back in the car and had to resist the urge to squeal off at high speed. My client called them losers and then quietly said she’d probably just like to go to the nearest supermarket.
The thing is, I can’t quite get this altercation out of my head, mainly because I didn’t win it, and this is where the vengeful fantasies part comes in. I’ve already imagined myself wielding a gun at the three men and as they plead for their lives and promise to never use the word ‘lady’ again when talking to women, I shoot out three of their tyres. Ideally this happens at night, with just a street lamp to add a bit of a glow and to illuminate the steady rain. I run off into the darkness.
I must never be allowed to own a gun.
I’ve also had a couple of dozen re-runs of our conversation where I brilliantly outwit them with my superior intellect and then slash their front tyres.
There’s a few other ideas too, but as I’m not quite sure that I won’t carry them out, I won’t mention them just yet. Revenge is a dish supposedly best served cold, but some people say that about rice pudding and it definitely isn’t true.
On the good side, I went to the gym yesterday afternoon and lifted more weight than I thought I was capable of. After every lift I dropped the weight to the floor, crushing the skulls of the A1 Assured removal man.
Thanks Dark Knight.