THERE are a lot of tough men out there. The type that are forever seen in different 4x4s and drink their beer standing with their legs shoulder-width apart.
These types don't miss a trick. You could be spying on one from behind a drawn curtain as he slaps his friend's back in a beer garden some 50 yards away and more often than not he will catch your eye.
The really tough ones, you will find, appreciate good manners. The tougher they are the more polite they tend to be. At least to start with anyway.
As long as you remember to look them in the eye, remain humble and keep your hands out where they can see them, you will be ok.
It is therefore surprising and rather comforting to learn that they share curious weaknesses. As a rule, they hate needles and it is for this reason you will never find one first in line at the flu clinic, handling rusty nails or holidaying in a high-risk malaria country.
They hate 'top hats', or rats, if you prefer, and would be up on the roof of that Mitsubishi Shogun faster than a kid with an ASBO-wish, if ever a long rubbery tail happened to cross their toe-capped boot.
Yet they often have a surprisingly in-depth knowledge of, and soft spot for, birds and freshwater fish. The hypocrisy here, however, lies in the fact that they would clip their child's ear if they ever caught him taking the catapult to a sparrow feeding on some Mighty White crusts in the back garden, but
"Thank you so much Mr O'Hare, haven't touched those..."
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