A Strange Meeting - Original Writing
On a bone chilling Friday morning in December, 2000 a tall hooded man
got out of a Toyota Supra in the suburbs of London. I was hiding
behind a large garbage bin. I came to know that a fight was going to
happen between the two most famous gangs in London, The Eagles and The
Scorpions. As it was foggy I could not figure out who the man was who
got out of a Toyota Supra. But he seemed to be a six foot tall man,
wearing a knuckle puncher on his right hand a dazzling Rolex on his
left. He was in his mid twenties. He was wearing sleeveless black top
and blue Versace jeans. He seemed to be waiting for some one. As the
weather got clear, I recognised him as Roger, the leader of The Eagles
gang. This was the first time I saw him so closely. His car was parked
just 50 feet away I saw that he had black skin and had freckled arms.
I could see his blood thirsty eyes through his balaclava.
Then there was a distant rumble of a car and then a Ferrari came
rushing past and skidded around and stopped. A short black man leapt
out of the Ferrari and had a notorious look on his face. He appeared
to be in his early twenties. He took out a Nokia 6680 out from his
pocket and spoke to some one in a very low pitch. This man was about
five feet five inches, braided hair, and broad shoulders and had
twinkling brown eyes. He was wearing jet black Nike track suit. Seeing
a mole on his forehead, I recognised him as William, known as Will. He
advanced towards Roger and shortly got into a very heated argument
with him. There was swearing and crossing all around the place.
Roger was so angry that I could see his vein on the te...
... middle of paper ...
... angry. “You want to
be like me?” he shouted. Do you know how it feels to be a gangster?
For you youngsters it is an adventure but for me I roar around with my
life in my hand. When you look at me, this
Rolex, this Versace and you think ooh what a rich man but only I know
how poor I am from inside. I have spoilt my life in this game and
won’t put your people’s life at stack”. There was silence for about
three seconds. Then Roger hastily caught my hand, slammed the tickets
to Manchester in my hand and a £10000 pound cheque and said to my face
“There’s your tickets and money to buy a house”. Then he gave us all a
stern look and said to our face “GOOD BYE”. I was shocked and
confused. I never expected such a spoilt person to guide us on the
right path. Now I am 59 years old and Roger’s words are still in my
mind.
Witnesses saw him waiting in the parking lot of the Machus Red Fox restaurant in upscale Bloomfield Township. He never made it home.
that he go see if anyone needed help. He drove around the area but saw nothing
already picked out his eyes, his cheek bones were bare; his arms had been attacked in several
me. Just run up behind me, he did. He got me round the neck, cussin‘ me an’
to be more clearly presented. He made the scene of the poem less dream-like and more like an
got away. he would come back in a better mood to be with his father.
the garage. Sam loves to drink blood. "Go out and kills" commands father Sam. Behind
under. It was nailed shut, but the nails had some give on one side where I could work
with other gangsters. This is about the time he met up with Frank Costello and Meyer
Gang-member families differ from non-gang-member families in terms of quality of family interaction, supervision and discipline, family affection patterns, and maternal attitudes toward males. Non-gang member's families are more likely to go out together, are more likely to be consistent in their discipline, and are more likely to display their feelings openly in the family. The mothers of gang members described their husbands as rarely involved in the family's activities. They also had more negative attitudes toward their husbands (Adler,Ovando, & Hocevar, 1984).
at the back, and the two guys in the car were gone. The people in the
straight out of the building. I didn't need to get crap from some lady when I
-Status symbols: Sophisticated customers who value the distinctive, exclusive collection seem to value the corporate-branded version of luxury. –Philip Martiz, chairman of the board
“Get out of my fucking car” he shouted with his eyes bulging out of his small head.