A Group of ‘Hoodies’ or ‘Soldjas’ (also known as a ‘Thicket’)
Walking into the Police interview room we were shown our ‘patient’! A scrawny ‘yoof’ lounging in a chair with his feet on the desk. We had been called because the Police officers were a bit concerned about his behaviour as he was not making much sense and was rambling on and on. It was when he was in one of his more lucid states that he told the Police officers that he had taken a whole lot of XTC tablets!
Right…first things first:
- his airway was fine as he would not shut the f**k up!
- this meant that his breathing was okay
- hence his heart was working
- and that he was fully conscious!…unfortunately!
Shining a light in his eyes revealed pupils big as saucers! A sign of either oxygen deprivation, fear or as in this ‘yoofs’ case the possible taking of substances known or unknown! “How many pills have you taken then?” I asked him resisting the urge to knock his feet off the table and get him to sit up. I was aware of all the cameras and microphones around so I basically sat on my hands trying to avoid punching the little s***s lights out. (Not conducive to good patient care and my bosses would probably frown upon such action)
“I’ve tekken tweny I fink. No probs tho. Drugs are gud man. Dont affect me know what I mean?” It looked and sounded like he had taken something and he probably would be okay but we need to cover our backs same as the Police. So we decided to take him down to A/E to be checked out. This is where he started gobbing off big style and demanded to be taken home and that “the ‘Filth’ had no right to arrest him because he earns good money and dat ting!” He started to finish off every sentence with “Innit!”
So whilst waiting for him to be bailed I ask him general questions about his drug taking, alcohol intake and what his job is? “I aint telling youse nuffink…I’m a ‘Soldja!’ I know people you know what I mean. Innit!” And then in all my night shift befuddlement I ask him “Soldier eh? What regiment?” He looks up at me not understanding so I ask again, “What regiment are you in then?”
“I aint in no army man! I’m a ‘Street Soldja’ innit!” I feel my knuckles tighten as my hands curl into fists behind my back. He spouts off about how he can get hold of guns and is not afraid of ’nuffink’. I cant stand these so called ‘Street soldiers’ who run around in gangs terrorising the local community and getting away with it more often than not. But, if I or any other member of the public, should give one of these so called ‘Soldjas’ a well deserved kicking it would be our jobs and livelihoods on the line.
All the while he is acting the big man swearing and swaggering around. What has happened to the good old days of ‘Gene Hunt’ and the ‘Sweeney’ when a well placed ‘dig’ to the kidneys or an ‘accidental’ elbow to the back of the head was all part of the criminals occupational hazards.
The Police were glad to get rid of him although it seemed he was playing the game knowing that if he played the ‘overdose’ card he would get bailed or de-arrested. We all have to pay our mortgages and its a big risk for a little s**t like he was. So it was off down to the A/E to add him to all the other drunks/druggies/assaults/half-hearted suicides/dick heads and other assorted jetsom and flotsam of society.
I was thinking that he need a reality check…then I tought that what he does on a daily basis is his reality. Because people like him are allowed to get away with their behaviour whilst law abiding people are expected to put up and shut up! He knows that he can almost do as he likes and that ‘respect’ (in the true sense of the word) does not exist for others only for the other ‘Soldjas’ in his gang.
What a knob head…!!!