I was standing in a busy Leeds city centre street having an involved conversation on my two-month-old iPhone 4S. As I said my goodbyes, I sensed someone hovering at my side.
Upon finishing the call, what I can only describe as an early-teens-rat-urchin-cum-chav asked if he could borrow my phone.
"Why?" I enquired.
"I need to text my mother," he said, a little coldly.
For a split second, I moved to pass it over - before stopping myself.
"No," I replied.
"Why do you mean, no?!" he barked.
"Because I'm about to use it again," I said.
"F*** off!" shouted Ratboy, before adding, charmingly, "f*** you!"
Not that along ago, I would certainly have handed him my phone - and now I wouldn't have one (although I might have given better chase back then).
