I meet Marine every night after work, and most days at lunch. I walk her home or bring her food. I figure it's the least I can do considering I still don't have a real job. Today, I didn't realize that she had to pull the stay-after shift or whatever name they give for "You pulled the short stick, bitch" -- meaning she had to stay behind to answer phones and so I idled around outside her place of work reading some library book I'd picked up. I figured out what was going on after calling her and so I got all pissy and left for home. You can walk your own way home! Well, that's what I thought. Then...
On my way home I stopped in front of McDonalds to cross the street, 4 lanes of traffic total, to see a young woman attacked across the road from me. Like all fights, the first 3 seconds were entertaining and a sort of contact-adrenaline burst set in just watching from afar.
10 seconds into the fight I realized the girl was being swallowed up in a gang of others and was beginning to get beaten down with various hair pulling and kicks to the head and body. I couldn't see anyone moving anywhere and a voice inside my head just kept saying "Surely someone is going to stop this. Stop this! I can't, there are cars coming. Someone will stop this? Surely." No one did however, so as soon as the vehicles stopped to watch I began to move across the road, juggling my library books in my hands along with my beer, my drink of choice on a hot summer's-- and--errr, -- well, winter's day. By the time I got to the other side and had played Frogger the girl was bleeding and was surrounded by a group of other people who were still doing nothing except watching, while the girls who did it all scampered away. The apparent instigator was pulled away by her friends, screaming her lungs out while they, in turn, screamed at her to run.
All I could imagine was my stupid pasty white ass in that mix of weaves and long nails, getting cut to shreds, and it was definitely what I was going to do if I could get across the street. I don't know who stopped the fight but I hope an adult stepped in because what I did see was just pathetic. No one doing anything. The girl on the ground had friends ready to help her away, but not to help her during the fight. Those are what I like to call "shitty friends". I believe I've heard of fairweather friends, etc -- these were just shitty friends though. And when she stops spitting blood she needs to get some new ones. I didn't think she would want to hear about it then so I headed home.
Sirens began to ring and I walked away shaking my head. How stupid, glad it's over. Thank baby jesus. They headed past me, though -- so I assumed it was just another ride to the hospital, something unrelated but not... What's this though? No, they stop meters down the road from me. More flashing lights. There I see a bicyclist, a woman, on the ground with emergency personnel scattered about along with a car windshield. Someone keeping the woman's neck in place, her helmet still on and her bike thrown to the side of the road. I didn't want to look, I felt like it was rude. Especially since she was still comatose. I just kept walking but made sure to make a face like "Ouch, that must smart. That's too bad!" just so people around me might know that I wasn't a bastard.
I wondered what was going on with the world until two men in front of me started to push each other around a bit. One of the men picked up a bag of trash and threw it at the other who blocked it and then began to curse at the other man who quickly scampered away to the laughter of many other Jamaican men standing nearby, watching. Probably for the best that Trash Thrower scampered, as Trash Receiver appeared to be pulling out a blade attached to his car keys (I still don't see how this can be safe if you want to unlock your car AND keep your testicles, but each to their own sliced bollocks as they say).
This is all happening next to police officers who are directing traffic because of the bicycle accident. I figure nothing else can happen because they're there but I turn the corner and hear a big "OOoooh!" as if a blow has been struck. I head back -- I mean, shit, at this point why not? -- in time to see Trash Receiver being pulled away before things can escalate and the police are forced to get involved. I don't want to be no snitch so I scamper off, yo!!!
Why today? The funny thing is, living in the center of Brixton, I KNOW WHY today. It's because it's beautiful outside! That's it, that's why! And it's the first day in a long time. Any time Spring starts to show its face, I've realized, I'm destined to hear sirens and kids fighting, if not even adults. This all continues until they get tired of it or the sun drains them and they chill out. People simply get excited, is all I can figure, and they resort to childish stupidity. That's literally it. You don't need a psychologist or sociologist to figure it out, people get sweaty and they are not used to it.
Britain needs better god damn weather and it always has, and this is why the Nazis could never conquer the isles. That's right, I made that leap. Post done.
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