Friday, September 20, 2013

Stories from the street... [UNCENSORED] [WARNING: RACISM, DRUG USE, VIOLENCE]

Entertainment is expensive in Wellington, a movie ticket is around 15 dollars and with popcorn and soda, that quickly doubles - so you have to make money last, or make sure that what you get in return is at least worth your time in terms of value.

Wellington, like many many other cities have these people who wander the streets and try to bum cigarettes off of you. And me being a business man, I can't help but wonder what I can do to monetize on this, and if not money, at least get some sort of value in return. So I have developed a plan that allows me to get something in return from these people. Usually, the results are mediocre, but from time to time, I get something worth writing about - today I hit the jackpot!

It's actually pretty simple, whenever a bum approaches me to get his fix, usually by saying something along the lines of: "Bro? Bro? BRO? Can I have a cigarette off of you?" at which point my face lights up and I reply: "Well, I've got a special offer just for you, limited time only! I will give you TWO cigarettes, one now, and one later, but in return, you have to tell me the story of your life, what do you say?" - "Ar... Are you serious?" - "Yes I am."

"Well... Fuck it bro let's do this shit! Come here, let's go sit... This is going to be a long one - I might have to charge you three cigarettes!

When I was seven, I don't remember shit before that man, sorry. When I was seven my parents moved to Australia, Melbourne eh, because... work. I went to school there but it was shit so I dropped out, started hanging out with friends. My parents, never really saw them, working and shit, so I hung out with these people who did some tagging and stuff. It was sweet, hung out, started smoking at eight-nine. Then on weekends drinking, then every drinking, more smoking. When ten-eleven perhaps more than that, weed. Twelve snorting lines after I hung out with this gang, they did graffiti."

 - All while telling me this stuff, the guy was simply staring into the rain, correcting his cap from time to time. He seemed to be around 25 years old. A gust of wind brought his scent to my nose - this guy had definitely not showered for a day or two.

"Tagging, weed, snorting. It was pretty bad eh? The gang started stealing cars - not to sell or anything, just to drive around and have a bit of fun, skids and shit. I was fourteen then I think. Years start blowing by man, it got really serious, pills down the drain, not just on weekends, get me through the days and stuff. Went to juvenile when I was thirteen the first time maybe. I go in and out for like, at least five times. Had some fun with that. The gang stuff got really serious, dealing with another gang of niggers and shit. Fifteen, got into fights all the time, we won, niggers couldn't do shit.

So I turn 16 I think, my mom decides it's time for something to happen. She threatened me a long time, I told the gang and shit but they didn't believe it. One day my mom drives me to the airport, she booked a ticket to Wellington. So to the airport, Christchurch and then in Wellington. I call up my mates at home and be all like: "You know how my mom said she'd fly me to New Zealand? I'm in New Zealand now!" They tell me to come back but fuck them. I get this job at a friend of family, do some gardening for some time. Get a car, do some skids, because fuck it, it's my own damn car now, I can do what I want. Nice BMW too, real good. I met a girl too, Airini, maori, freaking great girl. Some time later my employer falls or some shit, breaks his knee - out of business no job. Wait I have picture, see this..."

 - He pulls out his phone, an older Nokia, powers it on and shows me the background photo of his girl and two grownup dogs.

"She's great man. Yeah and these two babies. So I'm out of a job right because this cunt can't fucking stand on his legs. I start hanging out at home, get bored, go to town, meet some people, do some shit. Pretty much the same as before, start tagging, hanging out with wrong people. Steal cars, drugs and all that shit again. Stole a bunch of cars, not just to drive anymore, we took the tires or whatever we needed that week, then burned it or dumped it somewhere. Doings skids and shit my car breaks down, goes to the trash, no car anymore. Bummer.

So one night we out getting a car, drive around, fucking police catches up, get arrested, detained for a month - couldn't go anywhere. As soon as it's over I'm out doing shit again, get caught and detention for three months before they put me on 24 hour curfew. I get one of those fucking ankle things, you know so I can't go anywhere outside the house. Airini offers I can move in with her parents in Palmy. Fuck no, but I couldn't go anywhere else, so we do that shit. Got to know her family really well, like, all of them, fucking horrible. I get a job, picking fruit, means that I can go out between like 9 and 5 every day which was really good. Airini and me save up some money, get our own place close to their parents because I couldn't stand that shit anymore. We get some puppies too, the dogs I show you, amazing, they were little then.

So a week after we move in, this bunch of niggers moves in next door. Doing drugs and shit, drinking all night on the porch every day, just yelling and screaming. They did some tagging and shit too just when I was doing better away from it all. I start hanging out with them, then I have a breach, meaning I was out when I was not supposed to so I lose my job and have to stay home for three months. So I just sit at home and smoke weed all day, go to the niggers next door and smoke with them, play games all day. Anyway, three months later I can go back to work.

First day back at work,  I come home and my house has been robbed, they took fucking everything; laptop, big ass plasma TV, Xbox, everything. I go knock the niggers door and tell the fuckheads to give me my shit back, they don't do anything. Fucking retards. So the next few months get really weird man, every night they're out there drinking and yelling and shit at me. They don't give a shit about Airini, because she's maori too, but I'm white. They do this every night man, I go out there and tell them to fuck off, they give me shit, but I'm not going to let them get me. So for a month or so, whenever I see their tags anywhere I spray it over and write my own next to it. I know they're getting pissed, talk about it all the time.

Then one day I call my mates in Wellington, next day I grab a fucking car and drive there, with no license, police took it in the car chase. So I drive down, pick up my mates and drive back before five. That night they didn't come out, but the next one, they're there.

I go out and tell them to fuck off, their tags are no good anymore, getting sprayed over. Niggers ask me if I'm the one who's been doing it; "Fuck yeah what you gonna do bitches?!" They walk over and start acting all cocky and then my mates show up behind me, bigger than me. I grab the first one and headbutts him in the face, he falls down, silent. The kiddies then start walking back as we walk towards them, I knee the next one in the ribs and he falls on the ground as well, we chase them over to theirs, my mate hands me a hammer and then the police show up because of the noise so the niggers start running because they're not 18 yet, underage drinking. There's like six of them and I follow them, they keep running and split up. I get two of them, and I got them fucking good.

The problems stop, they don't drink or make any noise anymore, and when they see me they run, that was pretty good. We moved back to Airini's parents though, the place was shit. I lost my job after that. Maybe two weeks later we decide to move to Wellington, more job opportunities. I met the people I knew in Welly again, and they wanted me to go out and shit, but I didn't, just stole a few cars and stuff again but nothing big, just some weed. Then I got a job down on the wharf, unloading containers, but I lost that a month ago. I want to get back into gardening but it's just hard to find anything. I had a job last monday, but that was just one day. We live out in Miramar now, Airini and me, and the dogs. It's good shit, away from all the problems. So I go here, try to find work."

I offer him his last cigarette and thank him for the story, offer him my lighter but he says he's got one himself. Then he stands up, turn around and walk away - as it has happened before.

Do note though, I have a deal with myself: I don't tell them my name, and they don't tell me theirs - I don't want to know. Their stories is all I want, nothing more. Names in the above text have been altered, jobs may be different, places probably are too - but the story is true. I hope you enjoyed as much as I did.

EDIT: Forgot to add, he is only 19. But living a life like that does take its toll on your body.

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