Story time: So one time I had just come out of Watford High St station and crossed the road walking up the high st. I had my headphones on my hood up and my waist length dreads down. These 2 guys were walking towards me and I could see they were drunk but thats normal in Watford.

As I go to walk passed them one of them spits in my direction. Because I was so covered and wasn't really looking at them I wasn't sure if it touched me and also wasn't sure if he meant to do it.

I stopped, took off my headphones and asked "Mate did you just spit at me?" Now the next words out if his mouth were really important but being drunk the gravity of the situation must have eluded him. He slurred "What if I did?" while his friend laughed.

Now before he had even answered I had already decided I didn't link his body language so I had already taken a step back to get more leverage on my right hook and by the time the "did" had left his mouth my fist had entered it.

I'm not a small person. I'm not a weak person. I'm not a soft hitter. I punched this guy so hard that he left his feet and slammed into the closed shop shutter that we were standing next to. If you've ever hit one of those you know how much noise they make.

The full force of a grown man crashing against it sounded like thunder. He slumped on to the concrete. His mate stopped laughing and jumped back so fast he almost fell over. I pretty much stepped over them both.

I was aware I had just got off a pretty full train so there were lots of other passengers (witnesses) around so quickly got off the high st and ducked in to the ally opposite Boots. As I did I could still hear the other one trying to get his mate to wake up.

The next day I checked to spot to see if there was any police tape cos I thought I might have killed him but evidently he lived to be a prick another day. I'd love to know his version of events though. Moral of the story: Don't spit at people. Some people are me.