Resistance is Phutile

Kidnap.

London can be a strange place. Last night I witnessed a kidnapping. I don't hesitate to use the word, because that's certainly what it was.

After a brief argument, a girl was bundled into the back of a car, clearly against her will. A few of the men gathered around seemed to know what was going on and who was involved. My friend and I questioned some of them, and I began to argue with a guy who tried to pacify me and pretend nothing out of the ordinary had happened. At the bus stop nearby loomed an imposing figure, who dwarfed my 6'2 frame. He intruded on the conversation, telling me it was none of my business, I should keep out of it. His tall, shadowy presence only compounded the sinister aura of the scene.

Warned off by the giant, my friend and I crossed the road, sat in the green, and called the police. The police ignored the first call. When I rang again after it became apparent no attention had been paid, they asked me why I had left it so long before calling. Anyway, finally they turned up and we detailed what we had seen.

Not long after the police had gone an American bloke came along preaching the word of God. My Irish death metal head friend tested the American's patience, proclaiming himself a Satanist. Fair play to the zealot though, he strived to maintain relations and spread the love. A couple of other guys came along and decided to 'protect' the preacher man from us, simply because we were white and he was black. The newcomers were Somalian. More argument ensued, with the preacher trying to quash it all. The bizzare debate died down but the Oregon toned DV went on.

Meanwhile, across the road, elements of the sinister kidnap crowd still lingered around. I was pretty lucky they didn't come over after they'd seen the old bill leave. I don't know, am I a 'normal' guy, observing the oddities of my south London environment, or am I just another clown in the circus?

posted by Phu @ 5:06 pm