We were later getting out of work than we had intended, the plan had been to nip in to town and do a couple of bits and pieces. However after a day at work, it was a case of can’t be arsed. So it was straight home instead.
But there was a need to get some dog food, so I said I’d nip up to the shops.
And so it began.
The main manager of McColl’s was outside her shop having a cigarette, and a white van had just pulled in to the disabled parking space outside the shop. Words had been exchanged between the driver and herself and they were shouting at each other.
He was shouting the same thing over and over “are ya parking there ya self” in a fairly broad Irish accent (possibly pikey). She was shouting back, “What are you saying, I can’t understand you, speak English”.
I nipped into BestOne, it was no better in there. There was a weaselly looked bloke in there running around with a bag of flour in one hand (leaving a trail of flour behind him, like an older version of Hansel and Gretel), whilst randomly picking up items from the shelves and throwing them on the floor. All whilst an ever increasingly annoyed looking member of staff chased the man to get him to stop, and to get him out of the shop. It took two or three minutes before the weasel man was shepherded out of the shop.
I could hear an Irish accent shout “What’s wrong with the word dyke?” and the response “I know who you are” whilst the door was opened.
When I got out of the shop, the bloke was back in his van, still shouting, “you don’t know me, but I know where you work you fat bitch.” The reply as I was leaving was, “Jog on, take your tiny dick and find a hole to stick it in, that’s all you can do isn’t it”.
Out of earshot of that, I thought it was the end of it, but as I turned back into our close, I could hear another bout of shouting, but I could only see one person. He was yelling at someone, “It’s not like that, she’s just a nice person you dick. No, she isn’t a fucking whore, she’s a nice person. Fuck off you dick, I’m not fucking her.” Followed by an constant stream of “Shut Up, shut up, shut up……..”
I’m not sure who he was talking to, I assumed it was to someone on a phone, but the volume suggested that he might not have needed a phone and was speaking to someone a couple of streets away.
Never a dull moment around here.