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...rainy streets, neon signs, disused stations and broken lines...

Saturday, May 29, 2004

Smacked in the mush in Somerleyton Road

This fucking sucked.

Imagine the scene: you're walking along a quiet road at night and some twat - for no reason at all - decides to smack you in the face as you go past. As hard as he can. No provocation,. No conversation. No warning.

I hit the deck - literally gobsmacked - with a face full of blood.

There's two guys - black kids aged around 20 clearly a little worse for wear in terms of drink or whatever. One shaved head, the other with a hood. I ask them (from a safe distance) what the fuck they're playing at. They hurl random abuse and make it clear that they haven't finished.

I try and protect myself by standing further down the road and ringing the police. I wait. I wait a bit longer. And some more. I keep my distance but they're following me.

Next thing, I'm having a bizzare phone conversation with the police along the lines of "the one guy is now dragging me around by my hair in the street and kicking me. Could I have some police assistance NOW PLEASE?"

The police didn't show up. The two twats walked away. I've got a face that definitely doesn't look its best and I'm still bleeding.

Funnily enough, the three old black boys that came up to me afterwards as I stood there bleeding really made me feel better. Right then I needed to be reminded that this attack wasn't about race. It was about violent cowardly scumbags, and they come in all colours.

Oh, and the police finally rang back when I was at home mopping up the blood. I suggest they may have left it a little late.

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