So I’m standing at the taxi rank. It’s saturday, after 12, so there are a lot of pissed people about. I spot one, walking in my general direction. Looking at his face he’s clearly had about twelve too many. He gets to within arms length of me and pats my right shoulder. At this point the craziness ensues…
He starts shouting “This man is bright as hell!* this man is fucking bright. He’s next for a taxi! The fucking bastard is bright as hell”…[he’s swerving all over the road and increasing volume]…" fucking dickhead…" He starts trying to flag down taxis, only they’re not taxis.
All the while the considerably less drunk people around me are shouting at him to piss off, go jump in the sea, and other assorted death suggestions.
After about a minute I decide to walk instead. I happen to walk in the direction that idiot chose. I see him from a distance, trying to get run over. (I suppose it’s a pissed-as-a-fart crude way of ‘getting a taxi’) The taxi drivers must be used to this because they barely flinch.
The idiot bit is over.
I am walking down the promenade now, I am almost at the point where I turn off to go up to where I live. I see two people walking towards in the distance. They stop to lean against the fence (I assume they are a couple, judging by this behaviour). As I get close I notice that they are not a couple, but two young (about 18) girls. And they are looking at me. Not just idlly but almost staring. I get uncomfortable when stared at (especially if I am walking) so I start the well practiced pretend-to-be-indifferent routine. As I get close one of them addresses me:
“Exuse me”
“Yes?” I reply.
“mumble mumble”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Do you have a spare cigarette?”
“Sorry, I don’t smoke”
Thinking this is it I switch the routine back on.
“do you have fifty pee”
“Sorry, no cash. Just a credit card”
Routine back on.
“mumble mumble”
“Sorry?”
“Do you have a spare tenner?”
“No, I don’t have any cash on me. I only have a credit card”
(not directed at me) “Mumble”
Afterwards I wonder… Why would she want 50 pence? Why would she then ask for as much as £10? Was it practiced routine to make fat clueless blokes drop their guard so that they can be more easily be mugged? Was it genuine desperation for nicotine?
[sub]*How did he know?![/sub]