Butchered

However stupid you think I am now, multiply that by about 100 and you’ll get some idea of what I was like when I was a teenager. Most teenagers do stupid things and put themselves in bad or dangerous situations. Should I say most teenagers? It seemed like everyone was doing that sort of stuff when I was but maybe I just associated with equally careless and naive people.

When we were about eighteen or nineteen, two friends and I went out drinking. This wasn’t unusual, we were always out drinking but we usually went to pretty busy places where we knew lots of other people. That night we chose to go to a small pub a couple of suburbs away from where we were living. We were drunk before we got there because we were broke students who had to do most of our drinking at home so that we could afford a few drinks when out. The pub we went to was pretty quiet and too boring for girls who loved to dance and act like idiots. We had a couple of drinks and noticed two guys sitting near us. They were okay looking but seemed a little strange. We left and got some food.

One of my friends was so drunk that she lay on the dirty floor surrounded by dozens of paper napkins and made “garbage angels.” The guys from the pub came into the takeaway place where we were eating and started talking to us. For some reason we decided it would be fun to walk around the streets with them. After crossing a busy road, my other friend noticed that she only had one shoe and we all laughed as we watched cars flatten her other shoe onto the road.

I don’t remember much about the guys except that they were from somewhere far away and they carried a special bag around with them. We sat in an empty car park and made up stories about how great our lives were.

“So, what’s in the bag?” We asked. We expected it probably contained alcohol or drugs. The two guys looked at each other and laughed. “We’re butchers!”

They opened their bag and it contained various sharp knives. I don’t know if the guys were trying to impress us or scare us but my friends and I sobered up a bit then. We looked at each other and told the guys we had to go. “You’re freaked out! Stop freaking out!”, they laughed. We hurried off to a busy street and got a taxi home, reflecting on how close we could have come to being butchered.

Those guys probably were butchers by trade but it was the middle of the night and it was very odd for them to be carrying knives around with them. It is very odd for anyone to be carrying knives around with them unless they’re criminals. It was unsettling enough for us to get the hell away from them.

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2 thoughts on “Butchered

  1. I call it stupid kid syndrome. Done stupid things when I was in my 20’s 30’s and forties. It’s called being human… A bag full of knives.. That might sober up someone. Great post!

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