OLD ROPE REMASTERED: MASSIVELY, MASSIVELY OVERLONG PARK ANECDOTE
This one was first published – if you can call it that – on my own Facebook profile whatsits. It predates even the Facebook page, let alone the website. Anyway, I’ve chucked it in here, as it originally appeared back in August 2016. But with added headings.
MASSIVELY, MASSIVELY OVERLONG PARK ANECDOTE
(With questionable ethics; classist elements; and inappropriate language aimed at minors):
UNBELIEVABLY tense scenes down at Gosforth Central Park this afternoon. Allow me to illustrate them for you, forthwith:
FUN WITH AUTISM / GENDER ISSUES
Firstly, to set the tone, the little merry-go-round deal was occupied by (I’m guessing) an autistic kid. He was around 9 or 10, wearing an oversized, hooped woollen jumper; some sort of leggings; and – and this will be of crucial importance later – a pair of ‘Frozen’ branded Wellington boots. He also, to complete the picture, had a very floppy hair cut. And ice cream all over his mush.
Now… This possibly Autistic Kid was sat in the middle of the merry-go-round, deliberately dragging his wellies in an effort to prevent the thing from going round; or at least going round “too fast”. Any effort to speed things up were met with screams of either “Tooo FAAAAAAAST!!!!” Or just plain screams.
I mentioned to the kid that he might have a better time if he tried using the peddles and that… No response, other than a chuckle from a bloke I’d assumed was his dad, who also had who I assumed was the kid’s little sister to contend with.
Whilst annoying, this kind of disruption is tolerable when the other riders are babies, toddlers and 3 year olds (like mine). However, it gets old quick, so I took my youngest and buggered off to the 3 hillocks (mentioned in the earlier parkour anecdote). All the other parents took their kids and babies off the ride too… Including his “dad”.
FAT RADGE KIDS CAUSE ISSUES
Unfortunately for the perhaps Autistic Kid, the vacant seats were immediately taken by 3 really, really heavy set, track suit wearing radge kids – two boys (brothers) and a girl (sister), aged between, say 9 and 12 or 13. Thereabouts. The oldest kid was easily 15 stone.
They didn’t take too kindly to young Autismo – or his Frozen wellies. Within about 30 seconds, he was being F bombed and dragged out of the middle of the ride… Which is when son 2 decided to go back to the merry-go-round.
“Whooah!” I intervened. “Steady on there lads… Just because he’s a bit odd doesn’t mean you get to rough him up or be mean to him.” (I said whilst frantically looking around for the dad, who was watching from the swings with the sister… But annoyingly failing to step in.)
Second oldest fatty retorts: “A KNAAA BUT HE’S DRAGGIN HIS FEET AN BEIN A FUCKIN FREAK!”
I mumbled something in response whilst lifting my kid out of the road. Fortunately the Autistic Kid took the hint and hopped off too – running out of the park in the process, without batting an eyelid at the man with the little girl on the swings. It then became clear he was in no way related to the man or girl, completely ruining my earlier theory.
Minutes later, having relaxed, I saw the Autistic Kid being beaten up by a different fat kid – this time with an enormously fat head, riding one of those £150 quid Toys R Us novelty 3 wheel scooter things. I stayed out of it… Cruel acts of Natural selection were at play.
AND THEN THE OTHER ANNOYING THING HAPPENED
At the Big Slide – which has a ladder to gain access to a kind of Tree house affair – someone had dropped some ice cream at the foot of the ladder. Being publicly minded, son 1 grabbed a bunch of leaves to plop on top of it.
As he was doing this, from out of the little access hatch, some little cunt spat on him.
I went fucking ballistic.
Running round to the front of the slide, it was clear that there was just the one culprit in there: About 5 years old; ASDA track suit; covered in fucking jam and pen and all sorts… Basically a grown up Baby P.
ANGRY SWEAR FILLED WORDS
The exchange went as follows:
ME: “HOY YOU LITTLE SHIT! Did you just SPIT on my kid??”
RADGE KID: “Nar. Wasn’t me.”
ME: “IS THERE ANYONE ELSE IN THERE?!?”
RADGE KID: “Nar.”
ME: “WELL IT MUST’VE BEEN YOU THEN YOU LITTLE SOD YOU.”
ME: “Reckon you’re clever eh? DO YOU??”
(Silent glaring – stone walling me)
ME: “I’ve got me eye on you son! Just you sodding watch yourself!”
…I may even have muttered “prick” at him.
CLEAN UP AND THE SWIFT ABANDONMENT OF VENGEANCE
Fortunately, I was carrying wet wipes to deal with the spit.
Whilst cleaning it off my oldest son’s T shirt, the offender dropped down – and remained fixed in my hate filled dagger like glare, whilst I tried to track who the fucker’s parents were. At least he had the decency to look a bit afraid.
Turns out his Dad was an absolutely massive shit house in a muscle man shirt. The mum was a chippy wife… About a hundred identi-kit brothers too.
Bugger that for a parental confrontation.
I went to Sainsbury’s instead. Furious.
Son 1 changed his T shirt when we got home, where I warned him of the dangers of the criminal underclass.
Oh, and on the way back, I saw the Autistic Kid sat at some kind of family BBQ – apparently none the worse for wear.
(The family looked like festival jugglers – draw your own conclusions on that.)
Anyway, thanks for stopping by.
See you later, byyyyyyyye!