Got an "argument" with some alcoholized rebel morons with 2 dogs accusing me to be from "bloody middle-class" because I wore a white shirt, clean jeans, and trek shoes, as I was loading my grocery in the underground parking lot of the local supermarket. Cool, I'm fighting every month to keep my bank account afloat.
They asked me money, which I didn't had, then goods, but there was no way I was going to give them stuff under threat. Would have them asked kindly, things would have been different.
As I loaded my goods in my car trunk, the worst moron of the "gang" told me I had a nice car. "Yeah, it's 18 years old, I answered, and I hold it from my deceased granpa. Happy with that ?" - "That's cool man, that's cool, he said, mine is from 1995, I wish I had such a car !". - "Fool, I answered, it's not older, that's exactly the same, 18 years old too !".
At that point I was really pissed off and would have fought if needed. The guy was thinking I had no chance, but I had a hand on a rusted cutter I use to keep in the trunk. A good thing that the girl of the gang asked him to calm down, because if he dared to touch me he would have had a bad surprise and learned that you should never rely on what you think you see. :dry:
Stupid alcoholized moron. He could get decent clothes if he stopped to buy and drink that much beer only a week or two, France gives money to people that are unemployed or have other difficulties for that. :dry:
, pull up!
