Granny Smith she aint

Not so long ago on the 149, I was sandwiched between an ordinary looking bloke and a business woman - you know, heels, laptop bag on one shoulder, handbag on the other, fierce make-up (bright red lipstick and drawn in eyebrows - never trust a woman who draws her own eyebrows people). So this guy has been munching on an apple and when we come to a bus stop, the doors open and he chucks the core out the door.

Business woman: "Excuse me. Why did you do that?"
Bloke: "Er...do what?"

Uh-oh.

BW: "Throw your litter on the floor like that. I don't pay my taxes so that the council can clean up after the likes of you."
Bloke: "You what? Who cares?"
BW: "I care, you litterbug."

I'm thinking, litterbug, she's getting pre-tty angry. Watch out mister.

Bloke: "Whatever love. Why don't you mind your own fucking business, yeah?"

And then, the woman pauses for a second - and it's in that second that most people think, I wish I'd come up with something better to say, after the event has already happened. She inhales, and in a menacing whisper hisses (there are kids on the bus afterall):

"I just made it my business and if you do that again I'll take your apple and shove it so far up your arse you'll be able to eat it twice!"

Not bad lady. Not bad at all. It's all about the eyebrows folks.