I'm not even sure why I'm posting here. Well, I am; It's because I've had 6 double gin and tonics. Three beers normally give me a headache. If I seem remarkably coherent, it's solely because this is taking a long long time to write.

I finished reading "The Game" yesterday, and today have started on "The Rules of The Game" today. I am so completely AFC it's almost parody. The first day's "Mission", for those of you who are unaware, is to speak to five strangers. That's it. Easy right? No. Not easy. Paralyzing fear. The worst thing is that I'm pretty good at coming up with stuff to say. I have a great comment in my head, and I'm just to embarrassed to spurt it out. Fucking pathetic.

So I'm sitting in sitting in Pret eating a fucking Artisan fucking sandwich or some shit, ignoring all the opportunities to just say fucking hello to some random person. I decide that maybe today's not the day to start with this shit. Five People? It's dark already and I'm at zero, I don't think it's fair to count the guy who was asking about the break in at the office. I didn't really have a choice in that. So decide fuck this shit and get up and walk back towards the station to go home.

I walk in front of a group of people holding up "FREE HUGS" signs and hold my head low to hurry past. I feel like I have lost.

When I get to the platform to wait for the tube, I walk past a sight that is being studiously ignored by the hundreds of commuters standing next to me; some pathetic chav scum is abusing his girlfriend, pushing her against the wall, choking her and pushing her head down and holding his fist in her face, she is screaming.

Something snaps. I tell him to leave it the fuck out. I am a middle class English posh boy and it must have sounded fucking ridiculous. He looked like a stabby cunt and glared at me with murder in his eyes. He told me to walk away or I'd regret it. I'm a short fat computer programmer. I walked away, but I walked away looking him in the eye. I walked away to the emergency phone and called security to the platform holding his gaze the entire time. I don't know how I did it. I was scared. I have been picked on by shits like this my entire life, and the strange thing is that if he had been picking on me not his poor girlfriend I probably would have just sat there and let him beat me to a pulp.

Security came and detained him for a while, I walked around for a while in shock. I had planned to head home to sit smoking bud and playing computer games, but I decided to head to the pub. I was on fire. I was bought drinks by three separate beautiful girls. It's weird, it seems it's really just about body language or some shit. I ended up going to a club and enjoying it for the first time in my entire life. Fucking shitty load music and too many people and not enough bar staff and overfuckingpriced, but I felt at fucking home. What the fuck is this shit? I reckon you guys must be on to something.

But yeah, right now all I really feel is guilty. I feel fucking awful because of that poor girl. The station staff were a bunch of retards, they refused to interview her seperately from her pathetic violent chav boyfriend, so they're asking her "Did he hit you" whilst he's standing next to her glaring daggers at her. They let them go together eventually, so in fact my intervention probably just lead to a worse scenario later on, out of public view. Fuck man half of me feels like a superhero for at least standing up and doing something, being able to look him in the eye and say that I won't stand for fucking beating a women. Full fucking stop. But I feel like such a shit for selfishly feeling better about a situation that honestly made me feel worse.

Oh you were hoping for a point or some shit? Sorry. TLDR: some shit happened earlier and I feel fucked up but you don't care.

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