Wednesday, March 14, 2012

Wingnuts

One of the most bizarre events of my life took place yesterday afternoon (possibly an indication of how dull my existence really is).

I was accosted in the street by a kung-fu scouser.

I’m telling you, all she needed was her voice dubbed by Jack Black. I really thought I was about to be taken out Panda-style. Thankfully it wasn’t a physical mugging but an ideological one.

She was kung-fu proselytizing. She was fast as lightning. In fact it was a little bit frightening...

She barred my way and suggested very strongly that I might benefit from a little bit of Wing Tsun. Before I could tell her that I preferred Sweet & Sour Chicken she launched into her hard-sell routine of first lesson free, all the health and spiritual benefits, the possibility of taking out knife-wielding scum with the flick of an inscrutable wrist and the fact they’d opened a brand new studio at the bottom of town and were plainly desperate to fill it.

I wasn’t interested. It was obvious that Wing Tsun represented an investment of money, time and energy that I can ill afford to make at present. But I could tell she wasn’t going to take my first no lying down. I was in for a fight. A fight to the death. Like two warring dragons of kung-fu creation. And that put me in mind of my childhood hero, Bruce Lee and his martial arts teaching. One must become like water. People think water is weak but it can flow around and, given time, through all obstacles. It can wear down mountains and wash away entire cities.

Yes. I could hear a huge gong being sounded in my head and reverberating over the paddy fields of my imagination. I must become like water. I could do that. It was in my power. People often tell me I am the biggest drip that they have ever met.

I politely but resolutely explained to her that I was simply too busy; work commitments, on call 24/7, etc.

She kicked back with an offer to take my phone number down right here and now and to call me once I’d had time to reconsider my position. She narrowed her eyes at me. Was there an implicit threat in that statement? I wasn’t sure. I barely saw her hands move but suddenly there was a flier in my hand. Her pen was poised to strike. Crouching ballpoint, hidden signature.

No. I had to be strong. Remember Bruce Lee. Remember to look at the moon and all that heavenly glory and not the pointing forefinger.

I didn’t give her my phone number. I crisply folded up the flier and resisted the urge to glance at the nearby rubbish bin. I would go home and think about it and contact them when I was ready. I nodded once sagely. Take that, evil kung-fu sorceress!

She seemed momentarily winded by the exchange. She grimaced but I could see acceptance of her inevitable defeat in her eyes. She bowed her head, said she looked forward to hearing from me and then quickly retreated without once turning her back.

Very, very wise of her.

For I am a dragon when I am riled and there is no saying what I might have done.

Ah so. Listen well, my students. You all have permission to call me ‘Master’.



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15 comments:

Kelloggsville said...

Hate hate hate te street accosters! Worse are the charities 'would you spare £2 for kittens with no legs madm','no','so you are happy to see kittens bleed to death daily then madam' ....inside I am screaming 'fuck off' whilst my exterior mutters something about already giving to charities of my choice, but she knows she's ruined my mood for the day. Sigh. I may take those lessons and use my powers against them.

Steve said...

Kelloggsville: I find if I walk around with a blood spattered axe people tend to leave me alone... especially people collecting for maimed kittens.

Gorilla Bananas said...

The ancient sages say: "Do not despise the weasel for having no kick, for he can run down a hole with your flier." I would have asked her for a demonstration.

Nana Go-Go said...

Actually, Glasshopper, I feel terribly sorry for those folks who have to try and earn a living in this way, especially the young doorstep canvassers, normally with watery eyes because it's in the middle of deepest darkest winter that they're despatched to play on peoples' sympathies. I always try and be polite to these kids because it's not their fault they're having a bad run of luck.

About Last Weekend said...

Funnily enough we don't have street accosters here so much in California, just youngster treehuggers, I just say I already gave. Admire your dignified menace in the face of crazyNinjalady though, well done.

Steve said...

Gorilla Bananas: I was a bit worried she may have given me one. No euphemism intended.

Nana Go-Go: if she'd threatened me with her nunchucks I'd have given her all my money and my watch as well.

About Last Weekend: do treehuggers ask for money? Isn't hugging trees a free pursuit? Or are the trees starting to charge?

Vicky said...

Well at least she wasn't trying to flog Scientology !

Steve said...

Vicky: Leamington is too small a town for Tom Cruise and his cronies...

Timbo said...

I find that they don't hang around long. Usually I'm barely half way through showing them photos of my button collection (with full details of place of origin, where I acquired them, basically individual histories of each button) and they always seem to have other appointments to go to - they're very busy people!

Steve said...

Timbo: wow! You have a button collection?! Does it include toggles?!

Suburbia said...

It's very hard to be polite to street accosters! You did well!

Being Me said...

Master? Monkey and Pigsy are fighting again.

I would have been even more impressed if you'd said you deftly folded that flyer into a paper crane and handed it to her on a peacefully outstretched palm. But your closer was good too.

Steve said...

Suburbia: on the contrary, it's very easy to be polite when you know they can knock seven shades of shite out of you with their little finger.

Being Me: I want me a pink cloud that I can fly around on! Although I can do without that Tripitaka geezer givng me earache and headaches whenever I cross the mark. ;-)

Owen said...

Amazing self restraint... I would have been reaching for my flame thrower...

Steve said...

Owen: now, if she'd been selling flame throwers...