… but, yes. I am a serial stranger-confronter. What’s more? I’m a proud stranger-confronter. But what is a stranger-confronter exactly? Allow me to attempt to define one with my own examples.
This morning on my way to my last French Written Language lecture of the year, my ears were assaulted by that slapping/sliding sound of someone who seems incapable of lifting their own feet up when they walk. Danger! This is a pet hate of mine… In fact, I wouldn’t say a pet hate, purely because ‘pet’ conjures up images of cute fuzzy creatures people keep for pleasure… This is one of the many things that brings me boiling up with absolute rage…
Indeed, there are many things that leave me angry, but these can be overcome. It’s these rage-inciting acts that I like to call the ‘unforgivables’ (as in, if I ever went on a date with someone who did them, I would probably end up killing them or walking out early). There is absolutely NO way I will EVER overlook the unforgivables…
So I stopped and turned around to glare at the man behind me. I should probably add that I was impressed at my hearing as before turning and looking at his shoes I had already guessed that they were square-toed loafers with a 0.5″ heel. He came to a stop and looked at me strangely before I shouted “Pick up your god damn feet when you’re walking! It’s not hard!” I then continued to look him up and down and added “And go buy some shoes to match your suit. That’s just assaulting.”
I turned and strode off, ensuring to pick up my own feet as I did so.
I don’t save this for strangers on university campus who seem incapable of walking properly… Oh no. I am beginning to get a name for myself among friends for shouting at charity workers in the centre of Manchester. “Do I LOOK like I have time?” “Do you honestly believe that if I had a spare minute I’d spend it frolicking with the great-unwashed?” *cold hard stare/twitchy eye*
But yes, I not only shout at strangers in the street, but I enjoy doing it. It’s part of who I am… *shrug* The easiest way to not suffer from my whip-lash of a tongue or heart-stopping glare… don’t annoy me. EVER! I don’t think that’s too hard a request.