Stones, Suzuki and Sambuca...

The moon is looking very spectacular tonight. 3 quarter moon, and it's that lovely pinkish orange colour. I would have taken a photo - okay, I took several. I would have displayed a photo - but my camera's autofocus isn't infallible and the moon behind clouds just kinda tripped it up.

So what's been happening...

In my usual disordered A to C to B to E and then D way, let's see.

I've enjoyed my week of freedom away from the parents, especially considering that they phoned much much less than I expected they would. Despite this, I've looked after the place pretty well, and nothing's collapsed, caught fire, or being blown away in a tornado (yes we do get them - not large ones (depends whether you'd call an F2 tornado large), but we do get them).

I whiled away the lazy days, going to work, coming back, listening to loud music, getting pissed (drunk) and generally doing what I wanted when I wanted. Of course, all good things come to an end, and even though during the week I'd missed the company of my parents, as soon as they phoned me to say they'd be back in a couple of hours, my freedom suddenly became incredibly precious.

Still, they came back, and once they'd gone to bed out came the beer.

Not much has really changed since then. I'd been struck by the idea of finally actually really selling my bike and getting a new one. But it seems that the old lession of "never try to sell anything to a friend" proved itself spectacularly wise, as said friend and I quickly developed animosities that turned into arguments and insults, with accusations of dishonesty Exaggerations, truths, half truths, and lies disguised as truths flew back and forth...

...officially, said "friend" is now seeing whether he can afford my bike.
Unofficially, I think he's wasting my time.

Shame. I really fancied a new ride.

As for tonight, well. Sodding hell.
I'd been complaining to my boss for months that they shouldn't be sending us into dodgy areas, sending us to areas full of feral kids, graffiti, dogshit, and shuttered up houses.

But hey, an order is an order so off we go.

Last night, a guy was shot dead about 4 miles from here, which I spose would be worrying, but we have a couple of areas round here that aren't such great pleaces to live in.

One thing threw me for a loop last night though.
I arived in the "hood" where the dude was shot, looking around, noting the lack of shutters on the windows, the lack of graffitti etc, and I thought "well it doesn't look like it, but I spose technically, this is a "hood".

Anyway, I ended up on my way back from the area, cheerfully looking forward to my beer.
On the way back, I saw a couple of random spotty teenagers flick something into the road, and thought nothing of it.

Seconds later, with a shark *CRACK*, one that I more felt than heard, I might add, something hit me on the side of the head (helmet).

That fcuking stone.
A stone, must have been. bounced off my lid.

First thing I did was to slam the anchors (brakes) on, and half turn in the road, as I stared at these two kids.

I honestly was not sure what to say I felt. Anger? No, kids will be kids. Disbelief? No, kids will be kids. I'm not sure.

I stared at these two lads walking up the road, trying to figure out what I was possibly going to say to them.

In the absence of anything better to do, after ten seconds of watching them calmly walk up the road, I rode off.

Initially I was absolutely furious, shaking, if not from the cold then from the anger. How dare these two wankers throw stones at me, just because they've nothing better to do.

Then the voice of reason kicked in. "Chill out mate, you're a pizza boi, and pizza bois are fair game".

By the time I got back to the store, I was laughing. Yes, I was angry, but it wasn't an attack on me, I'd never met these two lads, how could it have been. It was an attack on pizza boys. And your stereotypical pizza boy is a thick as fcuk 17 year old lad who wants a bit of extra cash for his weed.

Upon reflection, I sincerely wish I'd gone back to congratulate these lads on their awesome shot. I was moving at 30mph, and they still managed to bounce a rock off my head. What's that, if not a good shot.

I got back to the shop and clocked out. Time to go home.
But I wasn't the only one on the receiving end, it seems. I walked out to see my mates having a smoke break, and across the road, surrounded by maybe 50 people, was a guy on the ground.

No one was sure whether he'd been bottled, or glassed, or whether he'd just been knocked out, but whatever, he was down for the count.

Someone had phoned the services, as before we even saw it, an ambulance and a paramedic were on the scene dealing with it.
5 minutes later, the police showed up, and so for me, it was hometime.

Let's give credit to our emergency services though eh?
some stuff had gone off outside the store, and before we knew it had happened, first the ambulance and paramedic, and then the police, were there to pick up the pieces.

In another country, the guy's fate would have depended on his medical insurance. Here, in the UK, thanks to the much maligned NHS, this guy will be treated, free of charge, and released when he's good to go.

Here, the police have turned up to calm things down, and make sure he's ok.

The UK has its shittyness, sometimes, the crap the government comes out with beggars belief.

But tonight, seeing the wheels turning smoothly, first the crime/injury, then the ambulance and the police response, I guess it gave me a little more faith in our emergency services.

Nice one, lads.

EPILOGUE: It turned out that it wasn't a drunken attack that put this guy on the floor, it was a hit and run, by two jackasses on an illegal pit-bike. Rumours circulated that the guy was killed outright, but according to an official press release, he's "critical" but still alive.
As for these off road wankers, we've had an upsurge recently in illegal motorcyclists, and despite police efforts, they're still riding about the local estates...
The police helicopter has been about quite a lot recently though, so let's see what comes of it.