Mess with me and I’ll break your face. Or nearby electrical appliances.
Friday, October 7th, 2005Some fat Canary Wharf gimp got on the tube this afternoon and promptly plonked himself against the wall, crushing the roses I’d bought for Louise as it’s our anniversary. I asked him to move, he merely rolled his eyes, shuffled a bit and sniffed, steadfastly refusing to make eye contact. And never breaking contact with the wall, ensuring that the roses were sandwiched for the rest of my journey. Perhaps even more annoyingly, despite the fact the tube was rather crammed, he opens up a massive broadsheet in front of him, nearly having several people’s eyes out. One poor guy had to tilt his head back to the point where he was almost looking straight up, just to avoid getting paper cuts all over his mug.
I wasn’t impressed. Neither were my fellow passengers. But I got my revenge.
We stop at Canning Town - where I change for the Docklands Light Railway. I pull the remains of the roses from between Bloated Gimp and the tube wall. He shrugs his shoulders and sighs as if vertical-steamrollering my flowers inconveniences him more than me. Bloated Gimp isn’t getting off, but helpfully stays almost omnipresent in his blocking of the door. As the train slows to a halt I position my right foot behind his laptop case, which was on the floor next to the door. Can you see what’s coming? Doors open. Aaaaaaand… SMACK! I stride out, booting his laptop so hard it made an audible crack, and knocking it about a foot onto the platform. And the beautiful thing is, I made it look like an accident. Eyes straightforward, I then made a hasty getaway, ignoring cries of “Oi! Ginger! Watch it! Oi!” and boarded my connecting train.
Math: 1, Bloated Gimp: 0.