I'm now going to tell you a story about a Jester I met there.
The shithole area I was living in was just fucking awful. Everyone hung about a park called Washington Park. Cunts smoked crack and jagged up infront of kids. Every scum bastard in the world hung about it. I also hung about it. I thought it was a pure zoo. I kinda liked it.
I was lying in Washington Park one sunny morning with a few crazies I'd became mates with. I'd just finished a night shift cleaning Cincinnati Reds baseball grounds seats with a fucking pressure washer and was shattered. One guy was a pure redneck ginger with dungarees who looked like a mad jester. I never really knew Jester. He was new to the flock.
Just then this big black dude about 6' 6" came walking towards us with BRONX emblazoned across his T shirt. My mate Nick was like "Yo check it out Scotland (they called me that), it's Bruce. All your troubles are over"
Bronx Bruce came over to Nick and done all the high five shit and I discovered Bruce worked on a plane. Nick asked if he could get me a flight to the UK for mates rates and Bruce was like "Yo whitey check this shit out. Imma not only get yo ass home mother fucker but imma get yo ass home first class for free"
I was like "Whit? Gen up?"
Bruce said "fo sho" and emptied a hold all with about 60 whisky miniatures he'd blagged off his last flight. We all tucked into them but Bruce wanted to find some weed and the jester said he'd go help him find it.
5 hours later Bruce returns and tells me my flight to the UK is tomorrow at noon and I can crash at his hotel for the night and he'll drive me to the airport.
I was like "Bruce, pure gen up?
Bruce was like "fo sho" again.
Bruce took me for something to eat at Wendys and started yapping about Scotland and the Pan Am carry on. Bruce seemed ok. Wee bit shady but ok. I discovered he was cabin crew. Got a wee bit scared, but ok.
We got back to the hotel and there was 2 double beds. On one bed was about 40 empty miniatures and a fucking bible. I recall thinking at the time that he held his drink well because he didn't even look tipsy. I went for a shower. I was fucking reeking.
I came out the shower and there's Bruce watching porn. I was like aw man no no no I canny watch porn wae a massive black dude called Bronx Bruce. Bruce, thankfully, got up and said he was going for a shower and turned off the porn and the light and said we should get to sleep as it's a long day in the morning.
Everything seemed cool. Still a wee bit scared but cool.
Bruce came out the shower. I heard him dry himself off but then it went aw quiet.
Then I could hear him rub oil or something on his hands.
He then started giving me a fucking foot massage
I counted to 10 and hoped he'd stop. Fuck knows why I waited till 10, the free flight I suppose but naw, 12 seconds went by and he was getting right into it.
I jumped up and went mental. He started pointing to his bible and said he was only anointing to my feet like Jesus.
Naw no having that pish mate, I said.
I bolted. Fucking foot raping bastard, no way man, no fucking way homie.
Anyway I went back to Washington park and mostly everyone had fucked off apart from Jester.
Jester was sitting on the grass in a wee dreamworld. I asked Jester how he was. He spoke all slow like a pure hippy.
"Awww duuuude, I just woke up on a fucking bench with $60 in my pocket. Fuck knows where I got it, I don't remember a thing"
He went on to say the last thing he remembered was back at a hotel room with a big black guy.
Aw naw man
I bet Jester got raped.
Jester stood up instantly put his hand on his arse and said "shit my ass is killing me"
I immediately shouted " JESTER!!! BRONX BRUCE HAS RAPED YOU!!"
He paused for a second, still with his hand on his arse, looked round to me slowly, stared me straight in the eye and said "Fancy coming help me drink this sixty bucks?"
I said ok
We never spoke any more about it although I did see the look of utter terror in Jesters face a few times.
That'll have been the flashbacks.
lolz poor Jester