|Oh man, there goes the neighbourhood!
||[Aug. 25th, 2008|06:27 pm]
Walking out to get some Indian food takeaway I see some little heads popping up and down behind a fence on Brockley Cross across from a block of flats (one of which has aptly had letters removed from it's name, thus changing it from "Conifer house", to "Conifer Use"). Up pop two little head screaming "surprise!". Two cute little kids, one little black girl with ponytails and bobbles, one pudgy little boy. Cute kids I thought.|
Then the way back the little boy jumps out with a sharpened bit of coat-hanger and says, "gimme all your money!". I laugh, and then he starts swearing at me and trying to shove me (not very possible - if he makes it to his GCSE's he may learn some physics which proves this). And he's like "You think I'm fucking kidding?!!" Calmly, I prise the coat hanger spike out of his pudgy little fingers and chuck it over the wall. Resisting the urge to drop kick him, and probably instantly kill him, I walk away. Dude. WTF?
Now, I know I did some stupid shit when I was a kid.. but that.. man, that takes the cakes. I swear to god I thought David Cameron was about to walk around the corner and tell me about Britain's Broken Society. This is the sobbing wretched stuff they fill Daily Mails and Suns with. Or BioShock - Six year olds with fucking bits of pointy wire and their creepy little sisters? Where's my EVE?
Not really shaken by the whole thing.. kinda morbidly amused... but I kinda wonder.. I mean, a lot of people going down there wouldn't think twice about kicking his head in. I'm almost tempted to make one of those concerned citizen calls to the police, but at the same time, I can't be bothered to waste an hour helping the old bill locate the little shit, and possibly dealing with his godawful and cretinous parents (who were probably the people staring at me from the Brockley Social Centre).
Breeding licenses people!