A beautiful woman sits picking her nose on the subway. Absentmindedly she sprinkles what she found there on the floor. Nearby a young gentleman gives up his seat for a fat woman he mistakes for Pregnant. The Police meanwhile are advertising for volunteers.
The absurdity however was lost this Sunday. Bjorn, who was feeling decidedly humourless, considered this better:
Last night I woke up with a massive headache and found I’d been beaten over the head by someone who at an unspecified period in their life had decided they didn’t like ethnics, students, gays, books and fun but instead preferred facial hair, misanthropy and the Royal family. Could that be you?
The belief that the police were pricks was a widespread and a highly unoriginal view but neither was it untrue. Bjorn had gone to school with two people who later went on to join the police. One had organised the Pro Iraq march at his college (he thought it unfair for fucking hippies to be allowed to skip school without the same luxury being afforded to the rest), printing placards with:
“ATTACK ATTACK ATTACK ATTACK IRAQ”
The pro war march had been a storming success and outnumbered the anti-war demonstrators. Damien had joined the Conservative party and had the intention going into politics but for the time being at least, law enforcement was his vocation
The other, Simon, had been temporarily suspended from college because even at 16 he had been adamant that the Holocaust never happened.
Graham, was doing well in the force, always wearing his costume immaculately; he was tall, well-built and handsome, striding everywhere with purpose. He was a swift thinker in that he gave orders firmly without thinking. If you asked him to fix a broken door, he would kick down the nearest door and attach it to where the broken once was. Never late in his life, he rose at 7 sharp every day with a breakfast of all bran and Lucozade. Wishing he’d gone to private school he could be heard occasionally telling Americans he had gone to Eton and very occasionally Oxford
Their paths crossed once before the protests. Graham farted on the tube and their eyes met; they both pretended they didn’t know the other. Graham was considering the pro’s and cons of buying a fridge with an ice making machine, Bjorn was trying to think of a way to blame his stinging urethra on his girlfriend. They looked away at once.
They saw each other again during a protest against the proposed rise in student fees.
Bjorn was there because a girl he wanted to fuck thought she was political. Bjorn and her had never paid anything themselves for their education and in her case for anything at all. She had strong views: Israel was bad; similarly the Tories and racism. She talked passionately about the new student unrest bringing about a revolution. Bjorn had his doubts but was sure she had a well-kept and symmetrical vagina so didn’t mention it.
The protest itself was an outrage, the students were “kettled” and when they shouted abuse at the nearest man in uniform they were hit. People videoed the whole affair on their Iphone’s; the pictures a clearly showed that every time a student shouted in the face of a policeman that he was a “capitalist cunt” that they got beaten over the head with a baton.
Bjorn had bought enough rolling tobacco and had taken a suitable amount of MDMA the day previous and consequently did not have hunger. Relatively content and eager to impress he stayed a row from the front and joined in the abuse with enthusiasm for a while. After 45 minutes he began to tire so he and Jessica decamped to the middle where they kissed and groped until eventually the crowd dissipated around 7pm and the protest came to an end.
They went back to Bjorns flat and after sex spent nearly 10 minutes agreeing with each other how barbaric the police brutality they hadn’t suffered was.
Graham meanwhile went home and had a wank to rape porn still thinking a little bit about the fridge he hadn’t bought yet.
Nothing in the world changed that day or would be changed, content though ; Graham, Jessica and Bjorn all slept happily that night.
Dedicated to direct action anarchy and to the protection of the public