Walking home on Saturday night, guess what I found?
You betcha.
A man lying down on the kerb outside my flat.
- COVERED in blood!
These days, you need to get up really early in the morning to surprise me but this was a strange one.
This guy was about 45 and was probably the drunkest guy I’ve ever seen.
He was lying down at first and then when I came along, he sat up.
Like I say, he was covered in blood and I mean COVERED!
I thought at first that he’d been hit by a car but I don’t know. Maybe he got jumped or maybe he just fell over and fucked himself up. I never found out because he was too drunk to even string a sentence together. He kept saying “Polish! Polish!” but then he’d just gurggle.
Don’t get me wrong, he was nice an pleasant.
Considering he had a hole the size of a snooker ball above his eye and a smashed in face, he was really calm and smiley.
I lit a cigarette for him because his hands were caked with with blood and we sat smoking, waiting for the ambulance I’d phoned to show up.
The ambulance showed up about a minute and a half later which really impressed me because this was 11pm on a Staurday night in Glasgow.
Not bad at all.
The guy with blood all over him seemed pleased to see the friendly paramedics and got up too quickly because his legs buckled and he fell straight onto his face on the road.
I thought to myself: “That’s probably how he got himself banged up in the first place – Because he’s howling at the moon drunk!”
The guy winked at me and managed a thanks as he got into the ambo and I hope that he’s alright now…but y’know what?
He was dressed in a grey pinstriped suit, a purple velvet waistcoat and those 1920′s American ‘Spats’ gangster shoes!
The ambulance drove away and I stood on the kerb like this:
“What?”
Like this:
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