Okay that’s the nutter in the wheelchair mentioned then came Lady Nutter.
How I got myself a decent wife I will never know, as my inclination is always to gravitate towards the nutters. Or perhaps its the other way round ,when I have it, bad luck is like a centrifuge that pulls the particles that are generated by nutters(that would be Nutons) towards me in a way that they have no choice in the matter but to interact with me. They have to sit next to me on the bus, and it makes them doubly mad and pissed off.
So anyway that’s me on the street again with me clipboard, unknown forces at work while I take taxi numbers and passengers numbers yarrda, yarrda. Three o’clock in the morning I.m pretty knackered and two club bouncers who I have been standing with all night have been including me in their tea round, but they are too busy now as the punters numbers grow.At this point without a warm mug of tea I am starting to feel a trifle uncomfortable. Were I have been this past 7 months five people is a crowd, this is an oppressive mass of people to me, and many of them worse for drink.
Then she appears my crazy woman, drawn to me by my bad luck and its centrifugal attraction to Nutons , which begin to whirl around me, “Aaaah lovy” she says “yours ears must be freezing”
and she rubs the ears of a perfect stranger in the street, my ears to be precise. Then she is completely trapped within my event horizon, and begins to rub the top of my head vigorously like a pair of mucky boots about to go on parade. “Aaah and you have not got any hair have you luvy” “Never mind I,ll warm you up”.
At that she walks off, phew! that was close.
Twenty minutes later there is quite a commotion behind me and my bird is being ejected for starting a fight in the club.
Some geezer with a bigger centrifuge problem than me got a smack in the mouth, it wasn,t her fault he was asking for it.
Then the club bouncer got his tirade of abuse, and bless him he took it like a man; well like a small boy scolded by his mother to be precise, except he had a shifty look about him as bouncers do, in case he gets blind-sided by some demented associate. She called him all the names under the sun for not allowing her to finish off the fellow in the bar, there was perhaps only me and her in the world at that time who new that the man needed to be bludgeoned to a pulp, as evidenced by his cocky centrifuge still teasing her Nutons through the window. Somehow at this point I got the idea that this was now all some one else’s problem, as she grew tired of the bouncer who professionally on his part refused to react.
She began to withdraw, well stagger off down the street to be exact, but then she spotted me!
Would I get my ears rubbed within and inch of dismemberment.
I should be so lucky.
“And you” she said pointing at me from the centre of the street; yes with cars weaving around her
” you f****** nosey bastard” She wound herself up to full height from her previous drunken slouch, certain she had found the source of all her troubles. “what the F*** do you want”
Oh there was more.
“You and your F****** clipboard, F*** off now ”
By this time I am certain I was trying to hide behind my clipboard, even though I am some what larger with an increasing big vortex of Nutons whirling around my head. Everyone in the street is looking as much at me as they are at her. Well what is he doing in the street at 3 o’clock in the morning with a clipboard and pen ?
Perhaps he is some kind of professional stalker ever vigilant for the actions of his intended victims. Drawing plans and scheming like Willey Cayotee, for some devious purpose aided by Acme Co.
Well this verbal abuse went on for some time, but lucky for me I copied the club bouncer and did not react to this abuse in anyway, and it worked. The Nutons were dispelled as they obviously need fuel from their victims, to survive.
My interaction with these particles left me with nothing more than a red face.
The moral to this story; stay at home..
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