I was at the Burbank airport earlier this week, returning my rental car, and I heard a running sound. The next thing I knew, a man (whose weight I've estimated at over 200 lbs--he was a big guy) had tripped, fallen into me, and caused me to drop my phone.
Let's just say that I used most of the words that Jeff has taught me over the years. Yes, I cussed him out.
Then he got angry at me, because I wasn't sympathetic to his plight. I wasn't as concerned that a big man had run toward me, tripped, and fell on me as I was that he could have hurt me. Heck, he had scared me, and my first instinct was to defend myself. I'm 5'2.5" (yes, that half inch counts), and he was a six-footer. Here's a hint, folks: you fall on me, and my first reaction will be self-defense. So I yelled at him some more.
He got up, complained to everyone that I wasn't very nice because I wasn't concerned about him or his problems, and then followed me to the terminal, referring to me as "Satan." I finally said, "Look--I'm sorry you ran and fell, but you're over six feet, and I'm 5'2" (I left out the half-inch), so how do you think I felt when you fell on me?"
Or this one:
And I can't get this earworm out of my head: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=62Qfbrc1jdo.