Murder on the busfloor

Well not quite, but I was reflecting on what-might-have-been and what-could-be..
The scene is top floor 192, a colourful place to be filled with Longsightians and Levenshulmers, topped off with scally Stockport.
To cut to the chase, a skinhead who I would judge to be at least in his late 20s, yanked my scarf from the back as he was passing. My first assumption was that it was a friendly tug from a galpal, but on seeing a white guy in scally uniform (full on shiny green trackie) I decided to revise my opinion. We exchanged martial glints but nothing came of it and he and another metallic trackied baldie went on their way.

I was shocked at his rudeness, and annoyed- but not so much cause my headband had been decent about keeping its grip. What occupied my brain however was what kind of people there were around me, trying to sum them up, and who might be a hero/ heroine should the occasion arise. Perhaps it's all the Lost I've been watching but it was interesting stuff:
A white guy, hard to judge his social class as he was right in front of me and I couldn't see much. He wore a whitish shirt though- i don't know how the middle classes are with chivalry. So I examined, the white chicks, asian guy, african couple... figuring out likely candidates (on faces as well as race :p). I also thought about if I'd do anything to defend myself- answer: probably eyeball the crowd and demand rescue. People will follow an order/plea like that however diffident they are about just jumping in. I think they're just too polite to interrupt sometimes..
I could go on but I'm hungry and Mrs C's making roast dinner..