I’ve mentioned my beat-up Astra in numerous past posts as well as the serious sound system that I had installed within it’s innards. How me and the boys used to cruise into the heart of Central London on weekends and show the throngs of excitable clubbers hitting the town, how cool we really were. Windows down, tunes shaking up the floor below their feet and the street filled with a sample of our insane volume! That is, until a situation arose that brought us kicking and screaming back into reality. Luckily, these times were few and far between. But there was one particular episode that certainly stands out for me…
So, it’s late in the evening and we’re on our way back from a fresh session of “disturbing the peace” via the intoxicating racket pouring from out from my car. I was sat with my best friend back then, Hadi, who I’ve sadly now pretty much lost contact with. Anyways, at some point during the course of the evening, we’d stopped off at a local convenience store for him to get a shot of alcohol. I can't recall the actual brand, but I know it was hard stuff. And the miniature clear glass bottle provided that much needed “kick” for him to lose his inhibitions, somewhat. Otherwise, he was a really conservative guy, by nature. We both were, but that night, we seemed to have caught a devil in our headlights. Of course, I was driving so wisely didn’t go near any of it, in case you’re wondering.
Now, the music blaring out was fuel-injected hardcore gangsta rap. That alone was enough juice needed to pump us to an almost drug-induced frenzied high. We could take on the world and topple anyone standing in our way. Well, it sure felt like that, at the time. We pull up to this set of lights and he’s already seriously charged from the thumping bass and dark overtoned tracks by now. The windows are all rolled down (as per usual, to make absolutely sure the general public "knew" we had arrived on the scene.) Hadi spied this lone guy, waiting to cross the road but a few steps away from him.
”Hey! Dickhead! You got a problem?” He yelled out. I spun my head around, just in time to see the guy staring back in our direction. God knows what evil force took hold of my friend at the time, but it was completely out of character, for sure. He continued eyeing us down for a few moments longer before looking away again.
”Oi!” Hadi bellowed out. ”You deaf? I asked you. What in the hell is your problem? You scared or something?” At this point, I realised we were stuck at a set of lights that hadn’t changed yet and this stranger’s agitation at this unprovoked tirade, was manifesting itself fast. He scowled back, this time with an angry menacing grimace. I started to worry.
”Listen, man. Just leave it. “ I murmured out from next to him, but it all came too late. The guy decided to stride up towards him, now leaning into the car within a matter of seconds. I was in shock, but aware enough to apologise profusely in the manner comparable to a frightening squirrel.
”I’m sorry.” I coughed up. ”He’s had a little too much to drink and he’s not himself.” Meanwhile, Hadi was still bristling at the guy, though in a softer, calmer tone.
”Yeah? What you gonna do about it?” Hadi mouthed back.
The guy apparently hadn’t registered a word I’d spoken to him. His rising anger was obvious as bent over further, until face to face with my friend. Then, a dull luminous glow colour caught my attention. Green in colour. That traffic light had switched over and it was time to get out of there fast. Seeing the situation was about to blow up hard, I slammed my foot on the accelerator. Only, with the car not exactly having the capacity to enact the characteristics of a sports car, the torque took a second to catch. It spluttered forward, giving our uninvited guest ample time to latch his fingers onto my friends face!
”Jesus Christ!” I cried out, desperate for the damn car to harness adequate power to bolt away.
The tussle between them was becoming fierce, mostly from Hadi attempting to pry those hands off. It all happened so fast. ”Let him go!” I yelled again. Then, finally, the car found it’s footing and sped off. I remember a couple more seconds went by where it looked as if the guy was being dragged alongside the car, using Hadi’s face as a tow cable. It was terrifying and scary as hell. But, we got away.
”Goddamn, man” I shouted, after reaching a safe enough distance. ”Are you OK?” I could hear Hadi fiddling for the car lamp button on the roof above his head. It turned on with a click and I looked around. His face had transformed into a bloody mess. Four deep scratch marks stretched across his face from one side to the other. And then, in the mist of this madness, he decides to ask me a question I’ll never forget.
“Do I look alright?”
Like some delicate, prom school sweetheart! Oh, I tell you. I nearly lost control of the car.
”Of course not, you imbecile! You’ve been shredded! Look at the state of you!” In wonderment, he reached up and touched a crimson part of his temple, before checking his fingertips.
”Oh my God!” He shrilled. “That bitch! He cut me! What has he done?”
The ensuing panic subsided a tad when I'd finished screaming at him, to allow rational thinking once more. Well, our version of it anyways. I drove him to the nearest hospital. He required no stitches, but bucketful’s of antiseptic and a good few plasters to boot. He walked out the hospital caked in strips of bland pink bandages and reddened tissue paper attached to each temple.
”Man, I hope that’ll teach you. What an idiot you are. You look like a true monster.” All he could do was gawp back at me like some lost kid who’d accidentally dropped his ice-cream cone.
”I know, man. I messed up. I'm sorry... Same time next week?”
