I am a bad person. Today, I went to a carboot sale, with all my worldly unwanted goods in the back of my car, (assuming -with some reason- that the great unwashed would purchase my incredibly tasteful castoffs, thereby enabling them to live a fuller and more aesthetically pleasing life), and set up my paste table pitch. Most of the morning went with the sort of excitement usually reserved for watching root crops being harvested, as assorted refugees, chav scum and Guardian readers pawed through my soon-to-be-former posessions with the usual bovine attempts at bargaining and irrelevant questions( "does this second hand blue lamp come in pink?"), and I managed to shift most of the tat. By lunch time I was reduced to rearranging the castoff cuddly toys (tallest on the right shortest on the left, obviously), and ripping up cardboard boxes prior to packing up and buggering off to the pub. I took the cardboard to a skip but while I was walking back I noticed a dodgy looking old frau pawing through my remaining merchandise and hurried back to make sure she wasn't half inching my prized collection of knackered matchbox cars. As I got closer I saw that I was worrying in vain; true, she was dressed like a Hungarian peasant, with a face like Steptoe's Dad, but she was shy one arm and had a stick in the other hand. "That's alright" I thought, "She's harmless". No sooner had this thought rattled around in my brain enough to lose the 'H', I started to laugh. not your casual chuckle but the sort of laugh that gives you ruptures. I tried in vain to cover this up as I got to my pitch, and between guffaws was asking if she wanted any thing, but merely succeeded in scaring the one-armed crone away (understandable really). As I carried on laughing for a good few minutes the bloke in the next pitch came over and asked what was so funny, so I told him, and just as I said"She's 'armless" noticed him go pale and look behind me. Yep, the monodextrous crone was standing about a yard away looking very upset, fit to cry. So what did I say? " Oh jesus I'm sorry love, no 'arm meant mwahahahaha!" I honestly didn't mean to say it; it just slipped out, and then I lost control and was still laughing as she left in tears. Funnily enough, nobody would speak to me as I packed my remaining tat up, and slunk away. Still laughing. As I said, I am a bad person.