Warning, this blog contains some strong language

My sister said she didn’t like my cheery blogs recently. Her and my friend Anish said they decidedly didn’t like the one about how to be happy. Which is all fair and good. They will probably be happy today, because my blog isn’t about being happy. It is about being positively furious.

I awoke as most people do on Fridays, with a sense of optimism that the weekend was ostensibly only 8 or 9 hours away. I can deal with whatever comes within that space of time. Got washed and dressed, and off I went to work. Now I am never in a rush to get to work, it will always be there, and if you are late, well, that sometimes happens. As I have this sanguine attitude, I never take risks when crossing the road. Yet this morning, having pressed the button, and waited patiently, and then saw a big gap. There were no cars 50 metres either side of me, and so I jogged across. A white van man to my right had just over taken a small white car, so I sped up, but I had ages. Then I saw this gold mini (it was the colour that all cars are in the Middle East). It was blatantly doing at least 55 miles an hour. Bear in mind that my block of flats is by a school as well, and you can realise this lady was a massive tool. I sped up to the other side. 

I easily crossed the road, as I heard the beeping of the lights turning red behind me. I turned because I saw some animation in the Mini, some arms flailing, so I looked across and saw she was shouting and waving her arms at me.

Now I had a choice here, I could ignore her, which is what I should have done. I could have stopped and asked her why she was so angry, or I could stick up a finger at her. I checked, and there wasn’t some man in the car who’d had his arm chopped off and so she obviously wasn’t in a rush to A&E. I checked there wasn’t a poorly child either who might need to get to the doctors super speedily. So she was just on the way to work. Having assessed the situation, having decided she should have stopped at the red light anyway, I did the mature thing and flipped her the bird.

Bad idea.

As I walked off nonchalantly, she wound down the window, shouted some more abuse, and then called me a ‘paki c**t’. There goes the Friday good mood! Again, I had a choice, I could have jumped over the railings, kicked of her wing mirror, and thrown a disproportionate wobbler like she did. I could have just walked on, turning the other cheek and being all biblical. Or I could turn and confront her.

I don’t know if you have ever been racially abused, but there is a weight to it. Mainly because it is like they are boiling you down to a pointless aspect, and using that as the stick to beat you. I stopped dead in my tracks, and turned. As I walked, calmly, to the barrier, she shouted a few more expletives, and then, even though the light was red, drove through the crossing, almost hitting a kid.

At first I felt bad, maybe I shouldn’t have crossed, and just waited. She could have jumped a red light, and then I could have thought to myself ‘I hope she wraps herself around a lamppost’ like I usually do. But then I thought, NO! She was a racist, and this was just one of the times for her to vent it. She is probably the kind of person who says ‘I am not a racist, I have 2 black friends’, yet she had no qualms about calling me a paki, which is both offensive and wrong. I am from Barnet.

It kind of made me think about the whole John Terry thing. For Sepp Blatter to say that Anton Ferdinand should just shake his hand and forget about it is outrageous. This stupid woman has made me angry today, I have already snapped at someone else because of her, I need to go make a coffee, and let this hateful woman’s opinion not bother me anymore. If that woman had been in my work place, it would be less of an issue. The repercussions for her actions would be swift and harsh. This is what should happen on the football pitch. It isn’t international waters for crying out loud.

- Anand