Absolutely

One day last week, my friend, whose identity I shall protect as this story is highly incriminating, and I decided to rent a blockbuster and have an enjoyable evening with a scary movie.
So my friend...and for the avoidance of confusion, I shall call him Batman, so Batman and I get to the counter to queue and there is this guy in front of a long counter, standing totally randomly on the left when the "queue here" sign is visible and clearly situated on the right side of the Ben and Jerry fridge.
I innocently proceeded to the counter but then I notice the evil look from the guy and I ask politely: "I beg your pardon, were you queuing?"
Let me tell you a little about the guy himself.
He has an air about him that tells me he is something above the law, or if not law, then clearly above me and the employees of this shitty rent-a-movie store.
Yet he is wearing a denim jacket...yes a denim jacket, the ones that used to be popular circa 1987....the colour is what it used to be known as stonewashed, or shall I say sadwashed...The only thing that could make this jacket more deplorable is the fur lining with a fur collar trim...

He has a goatee too, I mean all the god men wear that these days so he is sporting one too, only it is not that rigorously kept. Anyway, back to my story....
I ask if he is queuing and he turns to me, with a half smile that is so eloquent and which tells me I am an annoying little piece of shit, and he says with a smooth, deep, self assured wanker voice: "Absolutely"
I know some people would just leave it at that but there is something in me that does not let that happen and I politely point out to him that my jumping a queue was born not of insolence but simply of him standing randomly in front of the counter (note, not actually at the counter) and not at the designated queuing area.
Thus our conversation finishes and he starts abusing the Blockbuster girl. After giving her all his details in that loud voice (I will never forgive myself for not memorising his mobile number)...he accuses her of not giving him his visa back, is adamant she is wrong and then finds it in another compartment of his fat purse.

Anyway...after that experience, Batman and I enter a talk where we debate whether this guy is on cocaine and we conclude, without any evidence to the fact, that he is and start mocking his voice and imitating him.
Batman says that what the guy really wanted to say when he said absolutely was : "Absolutely, bend down and let me snort coke off your arse..."
"Where is my Champers?"
And possibly this, as he is so obviously posh; "How the fuck did I find myself registering with Blockbuster in East London?"

Later on, we still could not let this story die and it has taken gigantic proportions by then, our imagination running wild.
In this version, we memorise his mobile number and send him texts that say we know he is on coke.
Then Batman is worried he will know it is us.
We then use one of those internet websites that text for free...and text him anonymously.
Then Batman says, but we can still be traced to our computers...shit, I am prepared to spend a pound for 15 minutes on BT internet phone booth just to text this guy and besides, I just cannot see MI5 getting interested after a phone call from some sad weirdo saying he is getting malicious texts that say he is using coke so he demands all the latest tracing techniques are used to snare us.
(I assume the local Police station is beneath this guy, he would want to go straight to the top).

This fun lasted few days. Batman says I have a knack for attracting weirdoes. I really cannot argue with that.