The old git,hawian shirt, and my balls kicked in!!

ok...now if you've read my other story..Nicked Car Karma..you'll
realise I tell it like it is..no bullshit..and these stories are just
episodes from my life..this is another interesting urban tale...

It was a hot saturday in 1985, I was 14 years old, and to provide
myself with a little extra money I had taken a job washing and valeting
cars on a small site, in Stamford Hill, North London, near my home. It
seemed just an ordinary saturday. Me, the cars, and lots of orthodox
jews on their way to prayer meetings, and just generaly milling around,
congregating on the many corners I could see from my position, facing
Clapton Common..(do you know it)

Anyway..I hated this Fucking job..I also used to work everyday after
school. My mate "Stinky" used to walk past and shout out "scrub, scrub"
in a mock hassidic/yiddish accent, and it used to piss me off
no-end...the best part of the Saturday shift was hometime.and second to
that Lunchtime. so When 1pm came that day, I made my way over to the
Newsagents, and bought the nutricious lunch that any 14 year old
would..Coke, Crisps, and a kit-kat..

as I stolled back to the site, I heard a voice calling out to me.."help
me..please.." as I looked to my left I noticed an old guy..(alcoholic)
in a wheelchair..he was sort of half-in the chair, slumped. and looking
like he could do with some assistance. I walked over to him..before I
had a chance to say anything it was "could you push me
home...please...jesus..could you.." well..I was 14..how the fuck do you
say no to that...he was right by the main road..and I had visions of
some lorry splattering his arse all over the place, so I
agreed..looking back, it would have saved me a world of pain and
humilation to have left that old bastard where he was.

So before you know it, I was walking along, pushing him home..and when
I found out he lived on an estate where I never would venture under
normal circumstances..my arsehole understandbly started to go.. so
we're walking along, (well I was) and he's slurring away, about some
shit or the other, and all the while Im wishing I was back in the
safety of the car-site I hated so much.

Now all this time the sun is beating down, I hav'nt had a chance to
have any of my great lunch, and this geezer is stinking to high
heaven..the fumes coming off him was nobodys buisness. As we turned the
corner to where he lived I noticed about 3 youths..

Id say they were around my age, maybe a little younger..I did,nt make
eye contact with them and stupidly thought that they woul'dnt bother
me..well let me tell you..maybe in the adult world, not making
eye-contact helps you to avoid situations, but in the world of the
little bastard, all it says is..Im a wanker..come on lads..come and
beat me up!!
As we trundled past..one of them said "Oi, u dont live here..what u
fucking doing in this estate??" but not as intelligently as that.

They were a right bunch of wankers, and I told them
so..YEAH>>>"just wait there" I said.."I'll be back in a
minute"! I thought id push the old git in to his stinky rancid flat,
and then come out, smack these boys around for 10-15 minutes, and then
trot off back to work, feeling like charlie big bollocks..well the big
bollocks part of it was right...

"Thank ya mister, jesus you're so kind" he said as I literally threw
him through the door in the wheelchair..suprisingly enough the flat was
very clean, and did'nt at all reflect the man I had just brought
there..anyway, I said my goodbyes..(LEAVING MY COKE-CRISPS-AND KIT-KAT
ON THE TABLE BY MISTAKE) and went out to "sort out" these boys..

I got outside..and there they were..full of it..so I said something
like" so whats the problem!" and just as I was about to walk over to
them, this bloke..and I mean bloke appeared from nowhere..now when I
was 14 I was about 7 stone, and 4ft..but as game as fuck. Man, he had
stubble, muscles, he was huge...Rounded off by this fucking hawian
shirt..Maybe I was dazzled by that, as he grabbed me up..

"ha ha" was all I heard from the "Youts" but the strangest thing was,
this geezer never said a word...he just sort of held me in mid air, and
then CRASH!!!!!$$$\%\%\%\%****** well I tell you..guys if you are
reading this..he kneed me so hard in the balls, I swear I had never had
pain like it in my whole life to date..well that was it..game over..I
WAS FUCKED...on my hands and knees..nearly
vomiting..crying...sniffilng....pathetic.. he then spoke.."SHUT UP...I
SAID FUCKING SHUT UP" all the fustration, and fear and anger inside
me..the "youts" laughing.."Hawai-five-o" standing over me..it was
terrible..and all the while that old fucker who got me in to all this,
was probably in doors-watching Big Daddy, on the Saturday Wrestling,
and eating my lunch.

well, after about 20 minutes when I had the strength to crawl..and I do
mean crawl out of there..the "youts" followed me up the road and said
something like.."Dont fucking come back here again"..man, they must
have been thick..LIKE THEY NEEDED TO TELL ME THAT!!

dont ask me how I managed to regain my composure and go back to work
that afternoon, I dont know to this day how I did it.

But..I tell you..some people want to meet their sporting idols..some
would say politicians..actors..singers etc. Anyone ever asks me..and I
always say..the Man in the Hawian shirt..I never saw him again..and I
doubt if we would recognise each other..but I bet he remembers me
too..Id love to meet him again