Tomorrow is only a day away.

As it should be.

I'll be going to the Gyle shopping centre to get my £'s changed to Rand in the morning. I'll be accompanied by my friend Steff as a precaution against me yelling at, or making a grab for the throat of one, or more, of the many Mall Rats that travel in packs like Hyena's in Hilfiger jeans and Helly Hansen jackets.

It wouldn't be the first time I've made a lunge for one of the swine either. It's happened before and it will no doubt happen again.

It was last summer while I was sitting in Princes Street Gardens reading a book and passing the time by doing some people watching. A burberry clad Ned deemed it necessary that he, and his tribe of morons, verbally abuse a young Italian female tourist I was sitting next to relentlessly. When her friend spoke up to defend her the Burberry clad Ned began threatening them both with a "chibbing."

I snapped.

"Oi, Fuckwit!" I yelled. "How d'yae ya fancy a right good fucking kickin' fae me?"
"Aye man? c'moan then radge. I'll huv ye. Sittin' there wi yer wee book like yer Sir Walter Scott. Bring it oan, big man..." He said. His cronies laughing uproariously at the almost intelligent joke he had made. I stood up from where I was sitting and asked the Italian girl next to watch my book and bag for me. "I'll be back in a minute." I said.

I walked over to the Ned and stared him straight in the eyes.

"Feeling brave big man?" The Ned leader asked with a threatening tone in his voice as his hand reached into his pocket. No more words were spoken. I turned my head slightly to one side, arched my back and headbutted him right on the bridge of his nose. He crumpled to the ground with a groan. I kneeled down and placed all my weight onto his chest to prevent any ideas of him getting up and having a go at me. I looked up at his gang of friends and asked, "Anyone else want some?" They all shook their heads and whimpered variations on the theme of "No."

I stood up and walked back over to the bench I had been sitting on, picked up my book and bag, smiled at the two Italian tourists on the bench, suggested they may want to find somewhere else to sit and watch Edinburgh go by and walked away from the scene.

Whatever happened to the Ned I do not know. All I know is that the next time he feels like showing off in front of his friends he'll think twice and possibly take a few nervous glances around himself to make sure I'm not in the general area.

Out of pure chance I bumped into the Italian tourists the next again day. It turned out that they were on a holiday with their school and their teacher wanted to thank me for standing up for his pupils. I told them both that thanks were not needed and that I hoped that they would do the same thing if the situation was reversed.

"Probably not." they answered in unison. Ungrateful bastards,