I decided to take a lift with my mother in her rented car to Bristol, on her way upto Yorkshire to do the things she has to do. (shes a landlady, but usually lives in south Africa!)
After trying to find my friend Adam we gave up for being totally lost. We were given directions from junction 16 on the m5 but told to come off at junction 19 mistakenly… so I told my mother to continue on her journey and I would find my way on foot. Adam has done quite well for himself working as a chef, recruited by an old school friend of ours.
Adam and myself drank the night away, then decided to take the last train back to the station closest to his house. This is where we broke our first bottle of san miguel beer, as Adam put his bag on the ground too swiftly. We later bought another two bottles off beer to take with us but it would end up that these beers were in danger too.
When we left the train it was quite late, being wise to the ways of Bristol we delayed our exit from the station just incase someone tried to try something on. As it happens we were very cautious but still got caught out… we let the two previous brothers walk to the end of the path, although I wouldn’t call them brothers, they spoke of a different regional accent, and then descended the stairs as the coast was clear, but two guys who obviously were brothers (by brothers Bristol people mean to say black people who will mug you) walked just a little too close, on the this dark station path, and grabbed me by the arms. I wriggled free while they kept on trying to trip me up by kicking me in the leg (?), I did fall over in the end and cut my arm, then Adam was picked on as I ran to a relative distance of safety, the two guys chased him about a metre as Adam ran into a shopping trolley! His two bottles of beer became ammunition at this point and he lugged them smashing on the floor in front of the two bungled muggers. We were both able to escape without much damage.
On the journey home through the maze of streets that is Bristol, we, too drunk to do anything but run off, tried to reason why we were picked on and how they bungled what must have been their first ever attempt at mugging. They didn’t have any weapon to speak of, no motive, and Adam is quite stocky, whereas I’m 192cm tall. We see it as waste of time on their part and ours. The problem was mostly that Bristol is shite and I’d never think of living there, hell London was enough, I’m totally passive when drunk, and would rather live in more passive surroundings – like Brighton.