My colourful neighbourhood

The area/neighbourhood in which I live is more than colourful to say the least. It is home to a plethora of interesting and fascinating 'characters' that can be seen on a regular basis. Also, in my area there are a few questionable pubs that are perhaps more popular than the mosque in which the Islamic community flock to on Fridays. In my neighbourhood there are many deranged drunks who like nothing more than to drink and drink and thus fore become beyond inebriated. They love it, and from what I have observed live for it. The drunkards look unkempt, stagger about and talk nonsense and do strange things. (One likes to throw a coin to the ground in the hope that it bounces up and he can catch it. He never does). Some are even missing teeth. Like two front teeth. 

 

Speaking of missing two front teeth, my uncle is one of the local drunks that can be seen stood outside a pub entrance or off licence, (liquor store). He is the one with no front teeth. Well, he did have two false ones, but he doesn't have them anymore. Apparently, he went to a restaurant, (so he claims), took them out, placed them on the table and tucked into his meal. On finishing his food he probably decided that he was unwilling or unable to pay the bill and made a swift exit. Subsequently leaving his front teeth all alone like poor orphans. I can not confirm or deny that these teeth have now found a new home in the mouth of a very grateful old age pensioner.

 

The drunks in my area stick together. They are an army, a troupe of misfits that enjoy nothing more to sway about like leaves in the wind, aimlessly moving about like lemmings   or frequenting street corners getting tanked up. Having said this,  they are actually quite friendly and wave and call out to you as though you are their friend. My uncle loves to shout me when I am about my business. I must admit I sometimes pretend to not hear him - but this doesn't work nearly as much as I would like.

 

Last night I popped out to the shop and on the way back I saw one of the local bums, an affiliate of my uncle. He always, always has to come and say hello. He doesn't walk straight and more often than not he has a can of something gruesome in his possession, like he did last night.

 

Do I even know his name? No. Does he know mine? No way. Does he even know his own name? I wouldn't be surprised if again that was a no.

 

I thought not you again, we aren't pals. What on earth do you want. He asked me how I was and what I was up to. I replied that I was on my way home and going to bed. He said he didn't blame me that it was cold out. (Riveting). He then rambled on that he had woken up at 6pm that day. I had to reiterate to him what I had just heard. "You woke up at 6pm today?" He responded with: "Yeah, I haven't slept like that for ages. Was great." (I'm sure it was). I sarcastically said: "Sounds like you were hibernating." Which of course that fell on deaf/drunk ears.

 

He said: "Anyway, I'll let you get home, see you later." (I hope not) I said goodbye and swiftly made my way back to my home away from the dude who thinks he is my friend.

 

The area in which I live.

 

 

 

Demola, TCC