A letter

Dear Dale (that is your real name),

I remember you from my days at school in Cape Town. You played rugby and you were quite good academically. You were quite hot - I particularly remember that you had amazing legs.

Except you were a complete twat.

I remember you once teased me because of a Leila K CD that I'd bought.

Yeah, looking back it was a pretty awful choice of music but at the time I thought that it was quite cool.

However, you took the CD out of my locker while my back was turned and tried to show it off to get others to laugh at me.

I managed to grab it back and shove it in my locker. I think I may have told you to fuck off.

It was a moment of tension and all the other guys went "oooohhh..." as if waiting for a fight to break out. It never did.

Even though I'd saved up my pocket money to buy that CD I never listened to it again after what you did.

The funny thing is, is that I'd forgotten about it until yesterday afternoon.

I didn't recognise you at first because you've put on a bit of weight and you're wearing glasses now.

You were waiting to cross Euston Road at around 7pm last night, to walk down Upper Woburn Place. You'd obviously just got off a train at Euston Station, just as I had done.

I was stood right behind you. The first time I have seen you in about 11 years.

You never looked around but you had you done, you would have seen me staring right down your neck.

It was then that I remembered my Leila K CD and what you did.

As a bus approached I suddenly thought how poetic it would be if I were to have pushed you in front of it.

Just as your face would have connected with the front of the vehicle so I would have cooed "that's for the way you treated me all those years ago, fucker!"

Instead the green man appeared, the beeping started and we crossed the road. You turned left and I turned right.

Dale, you'll never know how close you came to being shoved under a big red London bus.

Of course I chose not to do it because you're not worth it.

You were weating tatty old Nike shoes and a rather beaten Springbok rugby jersey. That's why I noticed you in the first place.

I was crossing the road to the car park to get into my convertible.

The best revenge is happiness, wealth, money, stability and confidence.

As far as I'm concerned, I got my revenge on idiots like you ages ago.

If I ever am stood behind you again maybe I'll tap you on the shoulder and say hello.

Or maybe I'll just push you in front of the next bus, just for the hell of it.

See ya!

Bobby