#169: Where You Can Stick It / Where You Don’t Put It

[Two lads at a bus stop.]

-Yeah right!?
-That’s the way he was actually talking. Talking like that. You know what I mean?
-No way, pal.
-I’m serious, mate. Telling me to have a fucking break. Swearing at me. F’ing and blinding. He was so aggressive! Thought he was gonna smash my grill up. He was fucking built like. Muscles, maybe like gym like 4 times a week or something . Weightlifting and everything. He was proper, no nonsense, army militant sort. I was disrespecting him, apparently. He was telling me it was him being all polite. I was first in the queue. I was first and he was like letting me go ahead, but he changes his mind or I don’t give the right signal or something. I should have been first and he pushed in front and then he tells me it’s only a queue. Telling me to have a fucking break. Can you believe it?
-Fucking hell
-I was buying gum and he’s got his weekly shop in the basket. What a fucking – fucking hell – it was like I was in his way, but he was in mine and I know I’m right. Guess it doesn’t fucking matter. He’s the one getting angry even though he’s telling me to take a break. And I’m telling him no worries and chill, brother.
-Yeah, and he’s pissed? He’s pissed off right?
-You’re fucking right he was pissed. He couldn’t stop going on about it.Told him where he could shove it…
-Right up his arse!

[Pause.]

-No, fuck’s sake. I’m not going to shove it up his arse. Who do you think I am?
-But he was pissing you off. That’s where you shove it.
-Yeah, no. No, that’s not where I … Oh fuck no.
-What?
-Just no. [He walks away.]
-What?
[from offstage.] You’re fucking sick, Gary!

ENDS

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