Next time someone says, “I’ve seen everything,” punch them in the face. Hard. And more than once. Then say, "My dear friend, you, sir, are a goddamned liar." Because they haven’t. Far from it. So stick with me here, this won’t take long at all.
In my current occupation as a spoon I’m always on the look out for things to avoid. Things to avoid, for me, generally take the form of serious conflict, angry people and especially those who appear to be seriously unbalanced. And, as a spoon, I am now very attuned to these people, can spot them a mile off and am able to neatly side-step out of danger’s way and scurry off to whatever corner of the world I’m allowed to exist in this week. Case in point: I decided to break my diet and try the new place on a street well known for violence and oddball characters. Well, the place isn’t well known for violence (other than the standard Saturday night/Sunday morning crowd), it’s better known as a place that sells deep fried food which is seagull at best, but pigeon generally, all wrapped up and coated in some basic herbs and spices, the former being a sprinkle of Masterfoods Mixed Herbs and the latter consisting of Worcestershire sauce mixed with curry powder. I walked in, grabbed something that was sold as food stuffs and sat down. I then noticed him.
Six foot nothing; he stood there in the middle of the room and picked a fight in full view of everyone. No-one intervened at all, I certainly wasn’t going to get up and assist. He was violent and very loud and hurled abuse at his victim, which just happened to be….a bacon double seagull burger. He addressed the burger like he’d just discovered that not only had it had carnal knowledge of his wife, mother, sister, uncle but even himself at some stage. “You fucking c*nt!” he screamed. “I’ll fuckin’ have you!! BASTARRRDDDDD!” After a full five minutes of this he stormed outside. I’m not entirely sure what the burger had said to begin the fracas, but it didn’t look too bothered by it, indeed it appeared to be very nonchalant and dismissive of the man’s overall attitude.
It didn’t end there. By the time I’d finished and walked out he was in the middle of the street. He’d finished off his seagull and bacon burger and was now hell bent on handing out the hiding of the century to a 600ml bottle of Pepsi Max. He moved about like a drunken Ali in a pool of Golden Syrup as he bashed his bottle like he’d discovered it owed him money. “DON’T YOU FUCKIN’ BACK ANSWER ME!!” was one of the more interesting things he screamed as he head butted, punched and kicked the hapless bottle from one side of the street to the other and then back again for another go. Again, no-one seemed to know who actually started the rumble, but the odds are fairly high that the bottle wasn’t the either the instigator not the retaliator. Indeed the bottle, and its contents, remained steadfast in its silence though and refused to even give a basic grunt – one tough cookie. This spectacle lasted for at least three minutes, during which, amongst the indifference shown by the assembled masses, I noticed the presence of someone next to me. I glanced over and saw two representatives of the law also standing, transfixed by what they were witnessing. “Aren’t you going to do something?” asked a passerby. “Nah,” replied one, “the bottle is holding its own.”
I suspect that while the bottle was able to retain its contents, the man’s head wasn’t able to say the same.