Tissues, tuna, Hulk-wish

In Sainsbury’s, in the hair styling products' section, someone had deposited a large tin of tuna in brine.
I would like to know if it was done on purpose, if it was meaningful. I'd like to believe it was.
(If they’d chosen the tampons and sanitary products' section I would have been severely offended.)

Apart from those few seconds of mirth and wonderment, I mostly spent today crying. I guess that, amongst other things, PMT is striking again.
On the bus I stood up to a bully and his gang who told me to apologise after he bumped into me when messing about. Oh I don’t think so. I still have all my teeth because, luckily for me, after I expressed my surprise, he backed down. I won’t go into it here but this kind of incident upsets me far more than I’d like. I don’t think I’m equipped to handle this culture of obnoxiousness that has been developing. I don’t like that people have to turn either into bullies or cowards to cope. I’m neither, but I’m only small – just as well that the little voice of self-preservation at the back of my head makes itself heard just before I explode and things escalate.

On the bus home, later, I sat in the back, opposite a nicely dressed man with greying hair. I couldn’t help that tears were running down my cheeks. I closed my eyes, trying to hold in the flow. For a second, I hoped that he might offer me a tissue. Clearly embarrassed, he turned his head away for the remainder of the journey.