Aren’t teenagers great.
Whilst wandering through the park with Audrey yesterday evening, a group of adolescents dressed as a cross between Marilyn Manson and street urchins from Oliver Twist, thought it would be fun to shout abuse at us from the relative safety of the dilapidated bandstand in which they had ensconced themselves to smoke joints, drink cider and practice their spitting. To complete their entertainment for the evening, one of them had thoughtfully supplied a large beat-box, out of which US punks Green Day were blaring followed by Jay-Z, shouty American Gangster and rap artist, who was declaring: ‘I’m livin’ the dream!’
It was obvious that most of them had not yet learned how to form sentences but one ambitious young female seemed to have at least a basic grasp of the English language and had apparently decided that she would practice its use on passers-by in general and on me in particular. ‘Dirty Pedo!’ was her opening statement which she followed with: ‘My little sister says she saw you in that bus-stop having a wank and touchin’ yer beano. Pedo! She’s told me dad an’ e’s told t’coppers! Yer f***ing pedo!’
We hurried quickly along, trying to ignore the strident volleys of ‘Pedo!’ and ‘Wanker!’ and ‘Kiddie-fiddler!’
How I laughed! It was so amusing, I thought I might invite a German from the Internet around to the house later in the day to eat me.
I just caught the last of the abuse as we were leaving the park and turning the corner into Victoria Street: ‘Do yer ‘ave sex wiv’ yer dog? Pedo!’ The last thing I heard was: ‘I’m telling me dad yer waved yer dandy at me!’ (I think the word was ‘dandy’, I suppose it could have been any number of things, really.)
I know they have a lot of unexpended energy, but why do these youngsters behave in such a disagreeable way to their fellow citizens? Is it a form of seduction? Perhaps they actually quite like me and can think of no other way of introducing themselves. Or, more likely, it is a territorial impulse and they are simply scenting their ground, marking out their patch. Who knows?
I was mulling these things over in my mind after we had returned to the house. While I was making a cup of Earl Grey in the kitchen, I came to the conclusion that these unfortunate children are merely bored and, due to the depressing environment in which they exist and their uninspired and deprived upbringing, have learned no other way of expressing themselves. Stirring the tea, I spilled some of the boiling liquid on to my thumb. ‘Pedo!’ I yelled at the steaming mug before me.
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