Don’t mess with me

I had to threaten a man with bodily harm this weekend.  I had no choice in the matter, truly.

It all came about on Saturday morning, I was walking from the greengrocer’s to another grocery shop where I get my dry goods when I ran into a couple friends.  We stopped to talk and I got all giddy and was like, look at my leg I have a new wonderful tattoo!  As you may have guessed, this scenario has been repeated often since Thursday.

So I was showing them the tattoo and explaining where the old one was and how it was horrible and an embarrassment to tattoos everywhere which is why they hadn’t seen it before when a Southwark Council street cleaner came up to take a look.  Which was a little weird, but whatever I accept that I was on a public street flashing my calf with wild and reckless abandon.  BUT THEN dude reached out and tried to touch my still red and somewhat painful new tattoo.  I yanked my leg back and said, with a supposedly good-natured smile, “Do it and I will punch you in the face.”  He pulled his hand back and looked at me in confusion.

“That is brand new and still healing,” I said, “I am serious, I will punch you.”

He considered his options and said, “Well, since I don’t want to take a punch . . .”  and walked off.

But seriously, why would he think it was okay to touch a stranger’s leg anyhow?  I don’t mind that he wanted to take a look, but getting all handsy when we haven’t even been introduced is presuming too much.

All that said, I’m glad I didn’t have to punch him, my upper body strength leaves a lot to be desired and I don’t think it would have felt like much more than a tap.


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