A “Not Suffering Fools” kind of day . . .

I like to think of myself as a relatively right-on sort of person.  I’m as ‘green’ as I can be, recycle, prefer independent shops (with the exception of coffee shops, there are no decent indies where I live), use fair-trade where I can, go to Farmers Markets, pretty much a middle-class Guardian demographic lovey, despite being a working class northerner.

So.   Let me set the scene.

I’m in Costa, enjoy a skinny latte (instantly contradicting the above assertion, but meh) and I’m busy working, writing.  When all of a sudden this skinny guy sits next to me and decides to start a conversation.  I’m not averse to this, it’s actually one of the things I miss most about the North; no-one is really so far up themselves that they won’t talk to anyone, anywhere, but I digress.

So, me with my Mac out, working, skinny guy.   Opening gambit for a conversation:

“Do you know how many children died so you can play Candy Crush on your laptop”.

Now, in the milliseconds that passed between that statement an my response, I thought of a number of counter-arguements, and a number of “in my defence”scenarios. I even thought of pointing out that if he could find me one piece of electronic equipment that in some way, didn’t exploit someone somewhere, I’d be surprised and “would you want us all to go back to the dark-ages” type arguments. I even thought of mentioning that I wasn’t actually playing Candy Crush…

What actually came out of my mouth was:

“Fuck off, you self-righteous cock”

Perhaps not the wittiest of comebacks, but for some reason, he simply gaped like a tongue-tied goldfish, picked his coffee up and found another table at the other side of the cafe.

Sometimes, my mouth gets in first, before my brain has a chance to process/edit.

Sometimes, I don’t care.


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