Yesterday - while slowly (very slowly) reversing and minding my own business, a chav appeared from nowhere stumbling behind my car while it was txting.
It then proceeded to call me a d1ck head and took a running jump and kicked my car.
That was it. I saw red. I went from Defcon 5 to Defcon 1 in a milisecond.
I jumped out of the car and the chav went running into the pub it was previously stumbling towards and then out into the beer garden behind and to the side. Grabbed a barstool and threatened me with it while it was hiding behind a waist high fence.
I was raging. I was shaking with anger. The whole pub had come out and were stood observing the spectacle of fireworks.
I was shouting for it to "get here" to which it was replying "you want some?! You want this over your head you fat c*nt?!"
It had a broad deep voice. Broad shoulders. Flat chest. Tracksuit bottoms and a football top. I was dying to get my hands round his neck.
His.
It.
She. She.
It was a woman. I'd just gone absolutely critical mass on a woman that full on booted my car threatened me with a bar stool and called me a fat C word. All in front of her children.
"Calm down mate she's a woman" was the voice of reason that dissipated the red mist.
I couldn't believe it. It was surreal. Such masculine sound, actions and appearance.
I just got back in the car, took a deep breath and slowly drove home.
It was an impossible situation to justify given her gender but also impossible to just let it slide given the fact I thought it was a man.
Sigh.