On my way to catch the bus to Belfast International I stop to look at a mass of red lights that catch my eye. It is the current exchange rates; the Bank is buying Euros against the Stirling at 1.1 and selling the Stirling at 0.9 per Euro.
Standing there with my oversize backpack, tennis shoes, and Yorkshire Dales flatcap, I am the perfect picture of tourism.
While I try to make sense of the exchange my view is blocked by a horrible looking squashed face, eyes just a tad too far apart. The face belongs to a twenty something, terribly intoxicated, man wearing a dirty sweatsuit who says very clearly, "tremad blagh durptib."
His friend, similarly drunk, equally ugly, and dressed the same, stands behind him with arms folded.
I blink. Try not to laugh. Say, "I'm sorry I don't understand you," and start to turn away when with a quick motion he snatches my flatcap off my head and repeats his strange greeting, more emphasis this time.
I'm still quite lost, "Give it back."
He stares at me for a few long seconds, unblinking bloodshot eyes, half open lids.
"Pleeeeeeease."
"Please give it back."
Not breaking eye contact he slowly holds it out to me. I take it cautiously.
He says, "Shake," and extends his hand.
"No," I turn to leave and I feel his hand grab my arm. His friend unfolds his arms.
"Shake."
I don't want to but I also don't want trouble. I don't see another solution. I do what he says.
I put my hand into his and give it a firm squeeze, his feels like a limp fish.
"Hey! No squeeze." He wags a lazy finger in front of my nose.
Ugly and Meat-head turn and walk down the sidewalk. I turn and walk in the opposite direction when I hear a whistle. Ugly points up. I see a surveillance camera, little red dot watching us.
"Luckeee, wudda brookin yer nohz."
I give him a sarcastic look.
My heart is thumping.
Lots of adrenaline.
Two full weeks in the UK and the only rude person I meet is an hour from my departure.
