Coshadelic

Memories of a mis -spent youth surface ..In the mid eighties I was stumbling around the post punk squat scene in N.E London..Shooting speed.Pink hair..Often barefooted...Making a nuiscance of myself.
One night we had to get from a squat cafe in Islington back to Hackney...
Loaded on LSD, we decided it would be a good idea to jump (evade) a minicab fare.
With us was a guy from my school, call him Andrew Heels..From a grotesque and infamous Irish Catholic family with an unhealthy interest in each other. (One of the brothers had done time for messing with his kid sister...At school we used to sing; "The Heels are alive, with the sound of INCEST".But not to his face ..)Horrible fucking youth he was with a pre-Mullet and heavy inking from the age of 12.A bully..White trash, basically.
Somehow this evening he had insinuated himself into our group.
So we get in this cab, five,-two girls.
All of us screaming tripping shambolic, and I look at the driver -a big, swarthy fucker and just KNOW this isnt going to go right..
This was tears before bed-time stuff.
I look at my mate and can see he shares my reservations.Tonto.
Sooo, we drive in silence through the blackness and blurred lights, anticipating the imminent chaos.(Obviously no-one had any money).We are transmitting so much reeking fear I just KNOW this guy's picking up on it.
I light cigarrettes..Act casu.
We get to the Estate and almost before Geoff shouts "go" we explode from the still moving car..
Heels is much the worse for wear vis-a-vis the Acid, and instead of running into the estate, runs off down the road..
Mr Fuck-you-up cab driver in hot persuit..
Some half hour later Heels is at the door.He should be a stretcher case but the fucking idiot does'nt even realise it cos he's tripping too hard.
The guy had chased him down and kneecapped him (both legs, whilst tripping, mind,)with a weighted rubber cosh...The resultant swelling has split the seams of his jeans on one side.This is baffling him...
Oh how we laughed.