Wednesday, 4 June 2014

Postman Pat vs. Chav

Postman Pat vs. Chav

(or…Verbal Reasoning & Lateral Thinking vs. Verbal Aggression & Obnoxiousness)





Walking with my postal wagon down the road today (big red trolley thing containing the mail, all packets and my lunch) and a young man aged about 17 wearing a pair of headphones was walking on a collision course towards me. He could politely be described as casually dressed, with a baseball cap, grubby jeans, hoody and a screaming case of acne or more accurately as a stereotypical Chav.

At the last moment he steps to one side and I nod acknowledgment and say “thanks mate.”

He takes one earphone out and goes “what?”

I take both my earphones out and repeat “thanks mate.”

He glares at me and then sneers “Thought you’d have moved out the way for me!”

After  pause I reply “Err…I’m the one pushing the big, heavy, hard-to-move-out-the-way thing.”

“You fucking prick!”

“Charming, you have a good day yeah” (I go to move away).

He glares at me, steps a couple of feet back and then says “You wouldn’t be smiling if I was to take a blade to you and wipe that smile off your face.”

I look back and smile again then take some mail out of the front of the wagon. “Big scary guy like you, ooh! Wouldn’t want to mess with you would I?” I slam the hatch.

“No you wouldn’t, if I wanted to I could have you lying on the floor in 5 seconds flat.”

He is WELL out of striking distance and has his hands jammed into his front jeans pockets. His tone is flat and unthreatening and it’s clear that he’s simply monologuing a stream of threats that he’s used times before.

I wave my hand at him. “Not talking to you any more, go away.” I take a bundle of mail and go to move to the next house.

“What you say?”

“You deaf as well? Fuck off!”

“Seriously mate if I didn’t have somewhere to be I’d lay you out right now.”

He walks back so I stand on the other side of the wagon and decide on a compromise between walking off and having to actually engage the little shit. “I’m bored of this. Tell you what…!” I put one earphone back in and hold the cable halfway up and pretend to press a button with my thumb. In my ear are AC/DC demanding to know Who Made Who?

“What you gonna call the old bill or something?”

I smile and hold up my hand for quiet and then pretend to have the following conversation:

“Voice activate number 5. (Pause). Hello, police please. (Longer pause). Hello mate, yes can I have police assistance to outside 23 Letsby Avenue, Leamington Spa. IC3** male, about 17 years of age is threatening me and being verbally abusive. I’m a postman so I’m concerned about the integrity of the mail.”

The Chav continues to just stare blankly at me.

“My name, (false laugh). No I can’t tell you that as he’s standing here listening to me. Ok, thanks. See you in 5.”

I pretend to hang up and say brightly, “Whatever you’re thinking of doing you’ve got about 5 minutes so be quick.”

He steps back again and mumbles, “If I didn’t have to be somewhere I’d just stand here and wait for them, I’m not afraid of the filth.”

“Good for you, that’s the spirit. You have a good day yeah.”

 He slopes off up the road.


Job done.

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** Black.

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