Skip to content

the fight, an english beating, unpunctuated.

Messrs Num and Tom. Watch the hands.

They were standing on the corner not too far off from the hotel just looking over at us as we were all leaving and ready for any result but this and of course they spotted us so quickly and wandered over just about four of them all good lads and now so quickly I had two in front of me and two behind and what had started off as just a blokey piss-take was now more than a game as

_the smallest of them got up real close face to face and spoke as he spat and his cold blood had him so ready to hurt and me just looking down on him with arms folded in a hopeful calm was just pure happiness to this little street brawler as he grabbed both my unready wrists and jerked me down close for two quick kisses liverpool style which opened up all the blood a forehead and nose can hold just as

_his bastard cowardly fuckrat offsider smacked me on back of the head with a good sized bottle that felt full but these blokes don’t waste piss so don’t be silly but you have to admire the synchronicity of the event with me copping two in front and one behind in about a second so now I’m leaking like a split bladder and no longer standing but sprawled on the ground and not feeling but deeply sensing the value of the good kicking these lads are delivering me before they have too much blood on their boots but

_blurred vison or not I’m so sorry to see the look of horror on the face of that lovely dark-haired english girl standing a little way off under the hotel awning where we were supposed to meet five minutes ago and just as well she isn’t sleeping on the floor of the bedsit tonight as arranged only to wake up and see me tomorrow as I bend over the basin to check the damage in the mirror good lord the mercy of it though I did need more than a little help in easing off the blood scabs and checking the stitching that those tired nurses used to tidy things up because somebody panicked last night and thought that all that blood loss was serious and

_only one mate helped in the heat of it all so thanks monk my brother wherever you are now old lad you know I owe you but oh what a night ….


2 Comments Post a comment
  1. Ahhhh, High School… I hardly knew ye. I have often wished that I could fight. To know what it feels like to crush a man’s cheek with ham-shaped fists. I could have used a Monk in the olden thymes. And an English girl too, come to think of it. Always good to count your blessing eh?

    May 2, 2011
    • I spent four days in a theatre in leicester square watching west side story on a 24 hour loop and dodging prostitutes when I had to go out for food – what good old days they were …

      May 2, 2011

go ahead

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: