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What is it with some folks?

Today at the local fish market there was this couple in front of me  .. both about thirty. She was pretty and he was pretty big. They had their fish weighed up then paid and left. I followed a little later with a bag of WA scampi tails and 125g’s of soft-shelled crab, uncooked. Tonight is marinara night plus the Rabbitos are playing on TV later.

Happy days.

I need to pump up the driver side front tyre in the garage next door and there’s a slot next to the air hose but this is where the above couple have parked their Kombie and they’re busy right now packing their fish into a cooler in the back.

No problem. I pull in behind them. Leave enough room for them to back out then I wait.

And wait.

And wait.

So, I pump a little a little toot toot but that gets me nowhere, so it’s another toot toot. I can see them through the back window of their van but neither of them looks up.

So it’s toot TOOT !

The babe looks up, I gesture ‘ok?’ For this I get an unattractive sneer and she goes back to whatever they’re doing and I’m the nowhere man in this scenario.


They both look up this time and the babe sticks her head out of the door and stares at me like I’m the problem. So I unwind the window down and say, ‘I’d like to use the air hose when you’re ready, ok?’


What’s man left to do but to repeat the request, a little louder this time then suggest they both HURRY UP !!

This gets the big boofhead’s attention and he climbs out of the van, looks at me then starts that slow purposeful walk towards my car, his intentions unclear but highly suspect.

We’ve all been here. That lull before unforseen complications arise. The ones that usually mean blood and bruises. It’s a cruel world out there for the innocent.

I watch him approach. He’s about twice my size and half my age and when he gets to within a couple of feet of my open window, I push the button and slide it closed.

Then sit there like Bhudda. Transcendental. Unmindful of the threat that looms on the other side of the glass, which is a little on the grimy side. But that’s ok because so am I.

He stops, looks into my car, then turns and walks away, gets into his van and drives off and for some reason I feel victorious.

Then I remembered the Benelli Nova 12 gauge pump action shotgun lying on the back seat, these things you need to cull more than one wild dog at a time up at the farm and they’re also handy for blowing the heads off brown snakes.

Toot toot.

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