I was on the T yesterday, and there was this older man who was talking to himself, and barely holding onto a Dunkin' Donuts cup full of some sort of very smelly pink alcohol. All of a sudden, he leans forward to the man sitting in front of him, and asks him if he's minding his business (or something like that) and the guy says "yeah I'm minding my business, are you?" and the drunk must have mentioned something about the guy's mother because the next thing we know this teeny tiny little Irishman wearing a bright green jacket with IRELAND across the front leaps onto his seat and starts screaming that he's going to fucking kill him and NOBODY TALKS ABOUT HIS MOTHER!
He wanted the drunk to get off at the next stop for a fight. It was very exciting. Sure did shut that drunk guy up though. All of a sudden he had nothing to say, and a deep and abiding interest in his own shoes.
I think that was my first experience of a true Southie.
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