I sat in my favourite pub (I'm blessed - I live within vomitting distance of 4 pubs, and projectile vomitting distance of 8) and gazed at the Dalek which had thus far failed to show any signs of moving.
Every now and then it barked a threat of extermination and exhorted its place in the order of things in a voice that said more about the BBC's special effects budget than anything else.
The Bear was suitably impressed. At least I think she was. She can be a bit inscrutable at times.
By leaving an empty chair at the table I attracted the attention of the local drunk. Tonight was lecture night.
"Fuggin' muslims. I'd fuggin' send 'em all back. Bastards."
Ah. It was to be a socio-political discourse.
"Why?" I asked, stupidly. "We're all English. You'd punish a whole community for the actions of tiny minority?"
"Thats it!" he said, waving a finger. "Bastards. You can't talk to 'em. Little fuggers."
I had a whole range of witty replies ready for reasons why anyone, let alone a Muslim, would not want to talk to this individual. Self-preservation cut in and I said "You're entitled to your opinion" before attempting a subject switch: "Do you like cars/alcohol/women?"
My punishment for cowardly not engaging him in a debate on immigration and naturalisation was to hear about how his wife had left him 5 years previously (at least thats what I think he was talking about.)
Could I ever get this bitter and twisted? And quite so frighteningly intolerant? The scary thing is that we have major political parties in this country spewing the same vileness. Just without the stained t-shirt and whisky fumes.
