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From: Little shits in hoodies
Category: Life
Date: 06 June 2005
Having been a little shit myself once, now grown into a bleeding heart liberal, I have sort of fuzzy warm feelings towards the current crop. Hoodies notwithstanding, some of them are 'genuinely good kids' to borrow a phrase from films about delinquents down the ages. Unfortunately, some of them are the sallow, sneering, puss-faced psychopaths of tabloid legend and deserve no more consideration than that required for immediate and painful extermination. I've now been attacked in various small ways while cycling more times than I can count and am ready to join my nearest branch of the moral panic. I've had a bottle of piss thrown at me ('You like a bit of piss do ya'), conquers, stones, a stick, which went through the front wheel of my bicycle stopping me dead (the kid ran for it when he saw what he'd done) and yesterday I had to run the gauntlet of a gang on bicycles in Camden Square who blocked the road, pulled me off my bike when I tried to get past and gave chase briefly when I picked myself up and sped off. A man nearby lent me his phone so I could call the cops and another guy leaned out of an upstairs window where he had a surveillance camera installed on which he'd recorded these same kids breaking into cars - to know discernible interest from the police. When the kids saw me calling the cops, hoodies began to be tightly zipped around faces like buds closing in a film of spring going backwards. They were all gone of course by the time the law arrived and said law admitted that the situation was almost unpoliceable. 'You need to go undercover' I told them helpfully. 'Hmh' they said, raising their eyebrows.
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