Saturday, November 19, 2005

There goes the neighbourhood

Late this afternoon, I was kicking around the deserted precinct of Petticoat Lane in my beloved hoodie with the big B on it when a group of young hoodlums (also in hoodies, being hoodlums and all) sauntered right up to me in the middle of the road. Stopping before me, one of them sneered: "The 'B' stands for Bitch ..."

Thankful for his erudite observation, I retorted: "Uh-uh, dear chap. I do believe you'll find that the 'B' stands for 'Bite my arse, ____ face.'"

And then I headbutted, glassed and stabbed the li'l scamp 15 times for such an intrusion.

Except, as I didn't really want that treatment in return (quite the norm in these parts, depicted like so in this particular favourite track of mine), the only thing that got bitten was my tongue as I averted my gaze immediately forward and walked on like nothing had happened, taking refuge amongst the damask and broderie anglaise of yet another textiles shop.

I can't lie. London can be a very scary place, particularly in the east, and very often in broad daylight. The fact that the other week I considered a man chasing another man down the road while furiously whirling an iron bar above his head to be not all that abnormal is testimony to this*.

On Wednesday, I'm starting kickboxing with my friend Barb. And I'm going to invest in a personal alarm. Either that or the 'Mr T in your pocket' keyring I spotted in the shops today. I pity the fool who comes up against that.

*And, as I'm typing this, a loon on crack or some other joyous substance has leapt onto the grass in front of my flat (aka "The Ghetto Green") screaming, with two policemen in hot pursuit. There was a tussel and he's now run off again, deeper into the estate. Great.


At 5:10 PM, Blogger Grant Edmunds said...

hi make shor u kik em n tha balls cos that fukn kils

luv grant

At 8:30 PM, Blogger edieraye said...

Oh do be safe!


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