Ho-hum.
Apparently I've managed to 'upset' one of the ' 'ard boys ' of the locality in which I live.
Well, this really worries me-not.
It irritates me in the same way that banging your funny bone irritates, it isn't that serious but it is still an inconvenience.
The Kid is about 15 years old, he fancies that he is going on 25 and also fancies himself as a bit of a 'gangsta'. He is in fact, a sad little twit, a chav, who it appears is descended from a line of alcoholics and drug-abusers.
Both his parents and grandparent are known to have 'partaken' in the past. In fact, grandfather was taken off to hospital a couple of days ago as the result of some kind of spree.
I was just walking passed the house of the Grandparent, minding my own business, when the verbal abuse started up again. OH SHIT!
This abuse ( including threats of violence ) have been occurring intermittently for about two years and, I thought, had been sorted out after the intervention of the police.
Not so. This kid is either just a little too stupid to understand the consequences of his actions or that he is so full of himself that he believes that he is untouchable.
Anyway, there he was " giving it large" with the usual insults and threats of violence towards me.
I decided too try to solve the situation by going and having a chat with someone who lives nearby his grandparents house. This person is one of the most level-headed and reasonable men that you might ever meet.
He is also subject to a similar level of abuse from this kid and his merry band of Cohorts ( aged from 10 to about 14, average is about 12 )
After a quick discussion it was decided that the police should be involved once more. They were called, a protracted conversation took place between this other person and the police and finally they condescended to send out an officer. I went home, although not until I had given grovelling thanks to this other person.
As I sat in front of my computer keyboard I reflected that perhaps my approach to dealing with situations such as just had occurred could do with some modification.
You see, my approach is one that might be described as " fighting fire with fire ", a policy that usually works.
It does sometimes go wrong, with interesting results ensuing, but normally enough fear is created to quell all but the most ardent of antagonists.
Maybe it is because I am getting older and slower that fisticuffs seems no longer to be viable proposition.
Perhaps it is because the pain resulting from such an activity lasts just a little too long that I ought to seriously consider a more pacific plan of action.
