A Guide to London: Part 1. Sketch both fun and unfun.

So. I’ve failed as a cultural correspondent. It seems that going out and having fun / a lot of school work, makes you not want to write about some of the strange shit that has gone down around you. So now, trying to procrastinate from writing one of the dumbest essays I’ve ever had to write I shall start sketching (10 points for the pun. Count it!) out my impressions of London. I’m going to start out with the super sketch stuff because it’s more fun. So come, take my hand and lets breath in deep some of the Big Smoke.

So you want drugs do you? Well that’s good news because they are fucking everywhere. And apparently everybody wants to sell them to you. I’m not joking about that either, you walk two feet into Soho or Camden (or fuck it just leave the Tube Station in Camden) and around 15 people will try to sell you some crazy shit. Pills (on the way to a club called Fabric a friend of mine bought nine pills for ten pounds, she told me she doesn’t normally buy pills of the street she only buys pills from people she knows. After swallowing the first pill she says “Well… I can taste the speed,” and then takes two more. Double bonus points: the girl doesn’t really drink or smoke up. Kids here are nuts), poppers (I don’t even know what a popper is but my English friend told me it’s like a wippit and glue huffing mixed together. I then asked him if he ever huffed glue. He said “Fook off brov’, what ie do in my own time is my own biz. Ya goot that.”), pot, coke (when my mom came to visit me some guy we walked past and says “Hey lady you wanna buy your kid some blow?” Amazing.), and once I got offered smack and then another time Viagra. That was a confusing one. But then my friend told me that when you are in a brothel neighbourhood (such as Soho or Camden) guys just sell that shit. Brothel neighbourhoods? “Yeah brothel neighbourhoods.” I don’t see any brothels. “You see those open doors that say ‘models’, well that’s a brothel.” No way! The cops don’t care? “Nope as long as it’s not advertised as sex, or soliciting on the street cops don’t give a shit. Pot is decriminalized too, I could take out a little baggie and wave it in a cops face and all he would do is tell me to fuck off.” Holy shit! England is like the prim and proper version of Amsterdam! Except because it’s not really legal it still fuels all sorts of crime and nastiness so they set up cameras everywhere and track you at all time, that gives London this 1984esq vibe. Only place I’ve ever been where you need ID to get out of places. Way to fucking go England! Generally don’t buy drugs off of people on the street. In fact, just don’t talk to people on the street. Or make eye contact. Why? Well that leads me to my next little section.

The people of the city of London will try and fight you for any reason. ANY REASON. These are all true reasons why I have almost gotten beaten up (one of these happened to a friend in all fairness and not me): Because of being bumped into on a packed dance floor. Talking to a girl that another person was looking at from across the room. Being from America. Being from somewhere other then England. Sitting on a bus. Asking a man to put his dog back on a leash (this resulted in a kid on my floor getting a huge black eye). Momentarily making eye contact. Not liking a band. Not understanding their drunken slurred English. Mentioning colonialism in a non positive light. Talking shit about the Queen. And finally just generally being alive. I have managed to weasel and apologize my way out of every confrontation I’ve found myself in. Other people have not been so lucky.

However watching street fights can be endlessly amusing. The best time to look for said street brawls are between the hours of 2am and 4am, in one of these three locations: Camden, Kings Cross, or Fargington. Soho is another possibility but not a guaranty. Well its 3am and you are in one of the three afore mentioned places. What do you do now you ask? Find a Kabab shop. Stand to the side and wait, back up against a wall taking up as little space as possible (this is so nobody bumps into you and then punches you in the face for being a “wanker.” I have seen this happen). Wait. One will start. They can be pretty funny. Hearing them shout in their accents thinks like “You fookin’ cunt!” never gets old. The repartee is generally witty with responses such as “No! You are the fookin’ cunt!” and “Blllllllargacuntaaargagesav.” How can it not be good times.

Good times until somebody gets stabbed that is. There’s an average of around 180 something stabbings a day here. And it’s not like NY were you really need to antagonize somebody to get stabbed. Apparently people just go buck fucking wild with stabbings here. Let me give you an example of why this is very very scary.

If you get into a fight in NY, the worst that will generally happen is that you get beaten badly and the offender will flag down a cab (if he or she is kind), or just leave you on the side walk.

If you get into a fight in London, there is about a 25% chance that the person you are fighting will whip out a knife and kill you. There is also a 5% chance somebody who is just watching will whip out a knife and kill you, because - fuck - why not. Its not like the cops actually catch these people.

If you are mugged in NY, the mugger may brandish a knife and tell you to give him all of your money, cell phone, and iPod or whatever. You give them to him. He tells you not to move for two min and then runs away. You are scared shitless, but alive.

If you are mugged in London, the mugger will come up to you ask you for a smoke. You will take out your pack and then hand them one. They will then stab you several times in the gut, take your pack of smokes, your wallet, your cell phone, your jacket if its not bloody, and your shoes then run off into the night.

Oh yeah, on a side note, I read in the paper this morning that some dude is running around south London whacking people with a meat cleaver. Like running up. Wacking. Then running away. He hasn’t killed anybody yet but he has caused some damage. What the fuck is up with this town?

Now dear readers please wait six more weeks for my next instalment. Pubs Clubs and Drinks.

LDR out.