Looking for a fight?

I nearly missed my train this morning. Mr Swan was blocking the towpath and bigging himself up (as they do when you are anywhere near the family). I dodged past when he was distracted by this cyclist but the man behind me remained cornered, although I saw him later at the station so presume he got the better of our feathered foe. I did warn some passing joggers not to get close but I’m not sure they believed me.

Defence of the family is of course an understandable reason for getting arsy and looking for trouble. But I reckon there is something inherent in the universe’s structure that means we are all potentially looking for a fight. It helps us deal with boredom. You can always tell the really disillusioned people at work, they are the ones who want to take colleagues on over anything. The genuinely fulfilled amongst us are annoyingly serene and unflappable. Personally I’d place myself somewhere midway between the two.

I am looking for a fight at the moment, in the nicest possible way. There is an Extinction Rebellion meeting in Guildford in two weeks’ time. I think I will sign up and get involved. Fight the good fight. Maybe Mr Swan will be a bit nicer to me if he knows I am looking after his kid’s futures.

How’s this for a joke. Q: What do swans call their partners? A: Cygnificant others …