When I was young I hoped that thirteen year olds might stop picking on me by the time I was, I don’t know, twentyfive. (OK, I think I’ve been reading too much Richard Herring.)
So anyway. When sat in my secure middle class flat watching something like Towerblock Dreams it’s easy to wonder how kids think it’s a good idea to carry weapons. It seems such an alien state of mind, one that’s only going to make the streets more dangerous, make it more likely the kids themselves gets hurt.
This evening, cycling home through Islington, I ran the gauntlet of four young teenagers on a cycle path armed with stones and a plank of wood. I don’t know if they were hanging out there solely to hassle cyclists, or if they were merely making the most of a prime opportunkty. Thankfully, my momentum kept me going and I escaped with a couple of bruises, but for the rest of the journey home I wanted to do little else other than head back there with weapons and/or friends to beat the living shit out of the wankers.
If it only takes this to turn me, Mr Peaceful, into a homicidal maniac it’s easier to understand how more frequent and serious incidents lead to people tooling up. But still, now the rage has subsided I have a tiny glow of satisfaction from warning some kid who was cycling towards the teenagers; hopefully he took a different route. Or had a great big gun.