I overtook some chavs on the way home. They started hooting something at my back, but I kept on walking - although I relaxed my pace (I walk fast) somewhat. If these people think you're trying to get away they'll hunt you down like a lame antelope. Counter-intuitively, one is usually less at risk by slowing down.
Once I was a bit of a way ahead of them I tried to decipher their hooting, and found it was mainly concerned with establishing the location of a fast food emporium, although some personal insults of a generic variety were now being added to the mix because they thought (correctly) that I was ignoring them.
So I turned around and walked back towards them, saying "Sorry, I was miles away, where are you looking for?"
They repeated the name of the fast food place; I directed them to it, about three hundred yards away on the other side of the road.
And they thanked me, asked if I'd had a good night out, thanked me again, shook my hand, staggered across the road (to the consternation of some taxi drivers) and were out of my hair.
I quite enjoy living somewhere that's pretty much inner city. At least I'm more in touch with the way things are than those who derive their opinions from the Daily Fail.
Strange but true: most chavs are very polite and friendly when speaking to helpful strangers on the street late at night, especially when hopelessly drunk. You won't see that fact in the papers any time soon
Once I was a bit of a way ahead of them I tried to decipher their hooting, and found it was mainly concerned with establishing the location of a fast food emporium, although some personal insults of a generic variety were now being added to the mix because they thought (correctly) that I was ignoring them.
So I turned around and walked back towards them, saying "Sorry, I was miles away, where are you looking for?"
They repeated the name of the fast food place; I directed them to it, about three hundred yards away on the other side of the road.
And they thanked me, asked if I'd had a good night out, thanked me again, shook my hand, staggered across the road (to the consternation of some taxi drivers) and were out of my hair.
I quite enjoy living somewhere that's pretty much inner city. At least I'm more in touch with the way things are than those who derive their opinions from the Daily Fail.
Strange but true: most chavs are very polite and friendly when speaking to helpful strangers on the street late at night, especially when hopelessly drunk. You won't see that fact in the papers any time soon
Comment