I had an interesting experience this morning, which is unrelated to this conversation, but this just reminded me of it.
Driving to and from work plus parking costs me about $150 / week, so I thought I’d try catching the bus to work. I caught the bus from Albany to the Britomart station and was unable to figure out which bus to catch up to Khyber Pass Rd, so I decided to walk.
Part way up Queen St a walked past Mrs Higgins and purchased two white chocolate and macadamia nut cookies, fresh from the oven. Mmmm, the fresh cookies tasted delicious as a wended my way slowly up Queen St, admiring the fashionably short skirts of the many inner city secretaries.
Suddenly, a rogue charged into me, knocking my cookies to the ground and continuing on his way, without so much as an apology or an excuse me!
I was crestfallen and I called after the cad, and told him in no uncertain terms what I thought of him! He ignored my comments, so I picked up one of the soiled cookies from the ground and cast it swiftly at his moving back. It was a reasonably long shot by this stage, with other pedestrians partially covering him. Fortunately, my aim was true and my cookie struck him a on the left shoulder, exploding crumbs into his hair and ear hole.
Feeling suitable paid back, I continued up Queen street, with the occasional backwards glance, to ensure he did not rush me unaware. After a short delay, it seemed the cookie had attracted his attention, where my verbal complaint had not.
The man bounded up Queen St, snarling and yelling and we attempted to hold a conversation, discussing the relative merits of each others courtesy and manners. Alas, his ability at communicating was as poor as his ability to walk around people, so biding him “good day!” I continued on my way.
Given that he had already once charged at me from behind, I continued to cast a wary eye behind me in case he should do it again. I was not surprised to see that he shortly reappeared; but I was surprised to see that he was hefting a large concrete paving stone on his shoulder.
He rushed at me, uttering a collection of random gibberish and profanity, that while lacking in academic merit, allowed me to gather that he was not pleased with me. The spittle alone that sprayed from his mouth was enough to clear many of the other pedestrians from the footpath and so I was given a clear area in which to confront him.
The assailant at this point attempted to cast the heavy concrete block at my head, but by a bit of luck and some tidy footwork, I was able to avoid it entirely.
I briefly weighted up the immediate short term pleasure I would gain if I were to introduce his nose to my clenched fist, versus the fact that I was running slightly late for work and didn’t want to start my six month employee review with an explanation of why I was covered in bruises, cuts and grazes. For, I am sure had I ventured further into the matter, we would both have been the worse for wear.
At this point, the crowd of pedestrians, suitably aghast, raised a hue and cry; true to character, the assailant decided discretion was better than valor, and legged it down Queen St.
So, if anyone hears any rumors of me tossing my cookies in public, I can only say “it’s true, but there were extenuating circumstances…”