Tuesday, September 07, 2010

asbo barney


It's 4am, I am fast asleep.

My [master] bedroom faces onto the road. We are the only row of Victorian houses that weren't blitzed during WWII in my area. Which means I am surrounded by council estate, and therein, gangstas like.

I live in the project.

The proximity to the road is such that if someone is walking across the pavement in heels, it reverberates straight into my bedroom, not unlike a gong.

But this matters naught in comparison to the barney I woke up to at 4:01am.

It's like I was there.

I might as well have been standing betwixt the chavvy couple.

Clank, clatter, smash.

'FUCK YOU WAYNE, YOU DONNO NAUGHT YOU CUNT.'

All hail ye, it's a pikey fight.

'I just lost me best mate, AND she pulled my fucken fringe out with her bare 'ands Wayne. 'Er bare 'ands! What are you even finking? You're a fuckin cunt Wayne.'

'Fuck you! I is walkin' around wiffout me shoes on innit? An you iz complainin' about yer mate? I don't got me shoes on you twat.'

'You lost your fuckin shoes. SHOES, MATE, SHOES, MATE, I FINK MINE IS MORE IMPORTANT WAYNE.'

Ah. Life in the ghetto. Right outside my window. I don't take to being woken up in such a manner. I thought of stumbling towards my window, thrusting my head outside and yelling, Oy! Does yer Dad need a crane to get out of bed in the mornin?' Do you work at a Polish car wash? Shut. The. Fuck. Up.

Then hide for eternity.

They may be waiting for me the next day with Wayne's lost shoes, with which they'd use as weaponry directed towards my kneecaps.

(Caveat. These are chavs, not the mafia. They'd probably just chase me with a broken bottle.)

'Just oo d'you fink you iz, Wayne? She iz screaming at me for NUFFINK.'

''Ang on. She fought I was hitting on her. Which I was, but you said you like that.'

(Oy vey. A threesome. Gone wrong.)

'I did but I changed my mind Wayne! I changed my fuckin mind and one would fink you'd know that you stupid twat.'

And so it continued. Deep into the night. As they walked around, I could still hear them three blocks away.

No doubt interesting to listen to, especially when you're huddled under a duvet mere metres away.

4 comments:

po said...

Oh Peas. What can I say, but buy earplugs. This is my nightly sleeping accompaniment, because I too live in a ghetto, across the road froma chav-portuguese-mafia-karaoke pub. And there are gangstas in my nighbourhood too. I have heard so many terrifying, bizarre and hilarious fights, mostly with people who can barely speak any more. I once had a woman screaming outside the window for ahalf an hour, running around in the road because she thought someone had stolen her baby. The neighbours tired to tell her to go home or go to the police, or go AWAY and stop screaming, but then someoneshe knew came by and said her baby was in bed with her mom, the babysitter.
Argh. It's an education.

Wyrd said...

I have to comment on the fine job you did on that photo and associated legend. A Colincil Estate is indeed a nasty thing to have close to your Badvoom.

Peas on Toast said...

po - oh my, so you've definitely been through all of this before! Hell's bells it sounds almost worse than my ghetto! Will definitely invest in the earplugs :)
xx

Wyrd - why thank you :) And that's from one angle, you should see the others from the other side of the road! ;)

Coffee & Books said...

ABSOLUTELY BRILLIANT
from yer 'ol Dud