Just going through some of my old diary/blog entries and came across this tale of me being a bit of a cunt – apologies for the asterisks! You see, even though I’m a pretty nice person (yeah, self-praise is no praise) once in a while people piss me off and when they do I can be a cunt. Without further ado here is the tale.
It was a few years back and I was walking up the high street with the missus minding my business when I spotted a group of people walking down in T-shirts holding forms. They were targeting individuals who looked easy pickings and the charity was the NSPCC. Sure enough because I look like an affable duffer one of them homes in on me like a bird of prey swooping down on its next meal.
“Hello, sir, and how are you today?” he greets me like I’m his best friend who he’s known all his life.
I just think: Do you really believe I’m going to fall for all this false stuff?
He continues: “We’re here today in your town to promote the work of the N.S.P.C.C. and I’m just wondering if you’d like make a donation or pledge to help with their noble work?”
Before he goes any further I say really deadpan: “Actually it was your organisation that led to me having my son taken from me. You don’t really expect me to give you any money. Do you?”
This is of course a total lie.
“Ummm… yes… very sorry,” he splutters and walks off.
The missus turns to me and says: “That was really mean. But funny.”
“Well, I get really sick of these people always trying to guilt you into parting with your money, a large proportion of which goes on fat salaries for executives and managers. Not only that, where were all these people when we needed help?”
“Yeah, that’s true,” she responds.
The funny thing was when we on the way back the team was coming up the high street and it was kind of satisfying to see the same guy steer one of his colleagues out of my way.
Yep, I can be a cunt at times. A right cunt.