Mild Peril

Had a minor altercation with some nutter in the changing room at swimming today.  It was Jeannie’s lesson and I’d taken Gabby as well.  Jeanie had got changed, but there were no cubicles free at the time, so all her stuff had to be left on the side bench as she was a bit late. 

After I’d guided her through to the pool, I returned and tried to put her stuff into her bag and take it out of the changing rooms with me.  This proved quite difficult one handed, so I looked for somewhere to put Gabby down whilst I tidied up.  The only suitable place was the baby changing table, which was in one of the now empty cubicles.  Unfortunately, this had a big pile of clothes and a bag on it.  Thinking that it wouldn’t matter, I moved the clothes from the table to the bench next to it. 

I put Gabby down, and as quickly as possible, tidy up Jeannie’s clothes.  Just as I’d finished, another bloke comes in and goes into the cubicle where I’d put Gabby.  I went in and picked up Gabby and he starts at me.  “Did you throw these clothes on the floor?”  I could see a pair of trousers must have slipped off the bench and onto the floor.  I apologised and explained I needed somewhere to put my daughter down whilst I tidied up.

He went off on one and started shouting about me throwing all his clothes on the floor and kicking his boots, so I said, “Hang on, I haven’t touched your boots and I didn’t throw anything on the floor”.  He appeared to be someone who didn’t listen to anything anyone elses says and said “You don’t throw my stuff around” in an aggressive manor. 

He also appeared to be a very large (and I mean fat) man, who I could probably outrun if I had both feet tied together (okay, out hop), but I was also holding Gabby at this point and wanted zero trouble.  I said sorry again, but he just carried on, starting on about how ignorant I was.  I was actually getting rather angry at this point.  I had only moved some clothing, and only one pair of trousers had fallen to the floor, and here he was threatening me whilst I was holding a small child in my arms.  I beat a hasty retreat and went out to the gallery area.

I considered my options.  Clearly a man who could threaten someone over something so trivial, whilst that someone was holding a small child was clearly an angry, if not dangerous man.  What would he actually have done, if I had stood my ground and told him not to be be so silly.  Should I report him to the swimming pool authorities about his behaviour?  But would this just make him more angry and put Gabby in more danger?

At this point, sitting with Gabby waiting for Jeannie’s lesson to end, my imagination went into overdrive.  If he had hit me, I could have dropped Gabby.  Then I would have called the police.  But, obviously, he’d get off, or do community service and then I’d have to turn into a Dirty Harry character.  I knew which one in the lesson was his daughter (the size was a fairly good pointer) so I could get his surname.  I could track him down, follow him home and burn down his house.  Or look up how to make a bomb on the Internet (apparently instructions do exist!) and leave it under his car.  Oh, all he could do was hit me really hard, but I could imagine making his life a living hell.  In my head, I could anyway.  Oh the power of the small middle class family man.  I could have written to my MP I suppose.

Anyway, soon the lesson was up.  I collected Jeannie and the bloke wasn’t there.  I’d have probably forgotten all about it by now, if it wasn’t for the fact I was thinking about what I could write about.  He, on the other hand, probably gets very angry alot and will most likely pick on the wrong guy in a pub one day and end up getting stabbed.  Even though I walked away, I won the fight.  I’ve seen Back to the Future and based my fighting ethics on how to walk away from fights.  That, and the fact, I’m a small, balding, bespectacled chap with the punch of a wimp.