Oh it was schadenfreude alright, and a quite sociopathic strain of it. I walked by the train station and as I did so a car rattled by on the main road beside me. Part of the machinery on the underside of the chassis had come loose and was scraping along the floor. It made a din. The driver slowed down but was forced to continue driving, which caused the damaged part of his car to come loose and lie fragile in the middle of the road.
Seconds later, a battered dirty Ford Mondeo followed it down the road and drove straight over the bit of car, causing it to crack and shatter loudly. As his car part was crushed, the driver pulled into the side of the road.
I stood outside the train station through all of this, and when the tyres destroyed his car part, I couldn't even contain the upward curl of my lips if I wanted to. It filled me with a little trickle of delight. I caught eyes with two blokey men who were also laughing at it, and as I turned and walked into the station, one of guffawed to the other 'Look at him laughin' away'.
I was. It was great.
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