Fat French Pikey Alert!

Before I get wittering pour de vrai, may I just welcome my 100th member to this blog. Lovely people all of you. As you're all paying attention, could I mention that I've been nominated on the old Expat blog awards (see blue thingy on the right), and happy comments about my blog would be most appreciated. No pressure, and it really is no big deal in the grand scheme of things, but if you've got nothing better to do, then please pop over, here's the link.

Ta muchly. And now on to today's bitchy rant...

It's ironic that last week I wrote how convivial my zumba classes were, only for that very night an incredibly rude Fat French Pikey (FFP) ruin my illusions. I got to the class and stood over on the far left hand side where there was a lovely big gaping space. No one was in it, not even close. My friend was standing just behind me. I like to be up front so I can see what the instructor is doing as I don't wear my glasses during the class, and I'm small so can't see behind women like The Wall who are as wide as they are tall, and rotund as they are wide. Zumba does not seem to work for everyone...

Anyway, there I was standing waiting for the class to start, minding my own business when three Frenchie friends come along to take up action stations. Two filled in the gap between me and the zumba instructor. The third, the afore mentioned FFP stood next to them, slightly to my right and in front of me, totally invading my space being about 20cm away from my body, and totally ignoring my very close presence.

I was gobsmacked, and ahemed a couple of times, you know, to let the stupid cow know I was actually there and she was practically standing on my head. I could have spat on the back of her neck and had no way of missing, she was that close! In the mirror, my friend was watching her face, and was amazed to see a look of sheer hatred and determination fix itself onto her pikey mug. One of her friends noticed how incredibly close she was to me and tried to pull her over a notch. The immovable force binding her to the floor yielded a tad and she shuffled a couple of centimetres to her right.

I could now breathe freely, especially as I was standing more up wind.

Then the class started. It was obvious she knew many of the steps, not that the years of zumba showed too much on her physically, and she was very enthusiastic with her wide stepping and arm flinging about (I think she was trying to tell me something). She also kept blocking my view as she was often standing just ahead of me and, surprisingly enough, I couldn't see either through her or around her, especially the not inconsiderable distance round.

In the end I gave up and moved backwards. Life is too short to be trampled by an irate Fat French Pikey because I stood in her spot. Some people are very possessive of 'their' spot in a public place - they always sit at the same table in a canteen or the same chair in a lecture hall, and get upset if someone has the affront to deprive them of their little comfort spot. I frankly hadn't noticed in previous classes that she always stood there though. I'm not sure I'd actually even noticed her presence at all to be honest. Without my glasses certain (pikey-type) people tend to merge into a blur of short fat mediocrity.

I had to be careful though not to get too carried away with the moment in one of the dances where we stand on one leg, punch the air with a fist and kick out in front with the other leg. My foot itched to make contact with the FFP's ample backside. So near, so tempting...

It would have been a mistake, I'm sure, and a dumb way to die if I'd come to a sticky end because she lost her footing, sat on me and squashed me to a pulp. Even dumber than the dumb ways to die in this delightful Australian video that in fact promotes being safe around trains.