At the first fight I was happy cause I could get some photos. Then the miscreants see me taking photos and decide to start a second fight. With me. Next thing I know Blue has me in a headlock and his weak friends are on me, knocking my glasses into the next row. He’s like – ‘Gimme the camera, gimme the camera’ and I’m like ‘No’. Actually, I’m like ‘Mmmmmaaaahh’ cause my head is in a fucking headlock. Stories are all I have and I’m not sure that they understand how much beating it would take for me to give that up. I put my hand on my pocket and let them sucker punch me all they want. They’re never getting the camera, so some dumbass decides to go for my wallet. By go for my wallet I mean, grabs my pocket and rips the entire trouser leg off. Then my cousin figures out it’s me at the bottom of the scrum and him and Chikky extract my head like popping a cork. Now Blue’s Clues can’t touch me and I agree to delete the photos, which is bullshit. Standing with your ass out, however, isn’t much of a negotiating position. What follows are some details on getting your ass kicked at a Royal Thomian match. I have no idea who won.
Fight No 1, before I got involved
Firstly, these things aren’t so much fights are rugger scrums. No one will punch you while standing, or even look at you in the eye. It’s just a numbers thing, and Taz (cousin) tells me they’re all too cowardly to fight one-on-one. In my case I was up in the stands trying to get an angle, way too far from my friends to have any support. I see Blue get fachÃ© and try to back away, but there are too many strewn chairs and shit for me to get out in time. Blue clocks me and grabs for my camera, but I tuck it away in time. Now, he’s got me in a headlock and his Royalist friends arrive to generally beat on me. I have a good crotch shot, but I don’t see any benefits to escalating the thing. As it is, they’re not hurting me so much as shoving me around. Part of me is actually more worried about the extra toothbrushing this’ll take to get my trainers clean. One inteprid fellow lands a good one on my jaw, which is admirable in that I’m in a fucking headlock. Pain doesn’t register and I actually feel strangely calm. I can’t move and I’m not hurt, so I’m really just sitting it out and concentrating on keeping all my digital appendages attached to my body. Just waiting for the scrum to shove downstands a little so Taz can bail me out.
They can’t get the camera, so Blue and his boys are just patting me down for whatever. Some bugger gets the idea to grab something, so he grabs my wallet through the cloth and rips straight down. I remember wondering as to whether I had clean boxers and matching socks, and then feeling relieved that I did. That’s why it’s always important to think of your sock color in the morning. They were brown, which kinda clash with white shoes, but I was wearing a Moroccan T-Shirt and Linen so I think it worked. I guess I wouldn’t have worn blue boxers if I’d known I’d be showing my posterior to the entire stands. Um, anyways.
Taz figures out what’s happening and he’s like shit, cause Jit (me) is the last person you’d expect in the fight. He’s like ‘You’ve got the wrong guy! You’ve got the wrong guy’. Actually, I am the right guy, but only Blue knows that and the other guys kinda back off. Then Taz and Chikky pull me out and I’m safe. Check that I’m not flashing any tackle (truly a blessing) and wonder how the fuck I got here. The guys punching me have, btw, visited my Loku Amma’s house and their parents probably know mine. Now I’m down by the fence, near the cops but Blue is still rushing me. I can tell that Taz is this close to clocking him, so I’m like, no, no I’ll delete the photos. Keep the camera in my hand and delete the shots he wants, sneaking a couple through. Then I get my wallet back and Mahangu somehow finds my glasses. Should really wear contacts to these things. Or sports goggles and a fucking helmet. My head feels OK and I’ve got all my shit back. Neck is all indian-burned, Oi. Then I get Mahangu and Scourge to pose for a picture, posted above. The cop was laughing too. That was pretty much the end of that. Walk all the way through the Royal Thomian with my scrawny ass on parade. Get in the car, find fresh pants, write this, and now I’m going back out.
Oh, and just for the record, there’s another story that actually means a lot to me. This is emabarassing to everyone involved, but it’s important. When I was little we just bounced back to SL for vacations and I was kinda clueless. One time I was at Loku Amma’s and I did a No 2, only to find that there was no toilet paper. Really confused, but I kid you not, my cousin came in and washed my ass. Say what you want but that, in my opinion, is one of the noblest things a person can do. If you don’t believe me watch the last episode of Sex and The City, the part where I cried. When you get sick or old or in other situations where you can’t wipe your own ass, that’s when you know who your friends are. So, I’d like to thank my cousin Taz and Chikky for bailing me out, as well as Mahangu,Scourge and Suranga for keeping people offa me and finding my wallet and glasses when I couldn’t walk into the stands no more. Also Sophist for checking if I had all my teeth. When I got home Amma laughed at me, especially when I turned around.
Also for the record, stories are what I live for, so kicking my ass only helps me out. You can’t, however, take my camera.
If I’d given my camera I think he would have deleted all my photos, and there were some shots that I really cared about. They are of people, so tell me if you want them taken down.
Overexposed, but one of my favorites. Boy looks very sweet, nah?
I also have the greatest before-and-after photos ever of Mahangu and his girl (not posted). Woulda broke my heart to lose them. The shots I had to delete were good, one a guy getting it right in the chest. The coarse emotion on the faces was priceless. Gnu tells me people worry about getting exposed in the papers, and I understand, but I feel this weird compulsion to record and share stuff that I can’t stop. I almost think it’s important, though I do sincerely regret any feelings I hurt. And pants I lose in the process.
Note: I’m writing this like I won some dignity, but in hard fact I got my ass kicked, didn’t fight back, and left the stadium with half of my trousers missing