EIGHT cars were stolen in Belfast over Hallowe’en, with seven still unrecovered. According to the Book of Face, hoods were raking about all the estates in West Belfast last night.
I heard them myself. Every time I do, I’m brought back to a bad memory.
It’s a cert my Ma is ready to have a nervous breakdown with the stuff I put on this blog. But here goes. She knows. I had to come clean after it happened.
It was the year 2002 and I had a six-month-old baby at home, being babysat by my parents while I was out with my mate.
We went to our usual haunt on the Falls Road. We knew everyone and gave the door staff no trouble. They knew we were regulars with a warped sense of humour that only we found funny. Since going there from age 16 – we’d never been in a fight inside or outside. We were fun loving girls who enjoyed drinking, dancing and having a laugh. But as the bar had a reputation, a police presence at closing time was the norm.
One Sunday night, we weren’t finished beating blue WKD into us so decided to go to her house not too far away, to finish our carry out from earlier that night. We decided to walk it and buy curry chips with the taxi money.
I was wearing a dark denim jacket with bleached lines. They were all the rage in mill-baggy shops like Exhibit and NV, where I made most of my fashion decisions.
Walking past one of the new white Lego looking cop jeeps, my mate jumped on my back and I gave her a piggy back. The cop jeep moved off and I thought I would race it. Both of us still holding onto our curry chips, hit the deck after a few feet and fell about laughing.
This fella from her street was passing us on the Falls Road and asked if we wanted a lift. He was leaving his mates to the McDee’s and said he would drop them up first and then leave us off.
He and his friends did not care much for our Blue WKD induced hyperactivity and screechy reminiscing of the evening’s shenanigans. They threw us out on the Andytown Road and drove off.
We sat at the bus stop outside the Bingo hall and assessed our situation. We had no money and were halfway between my house and her house. We started laughing again because we knew another one of our ill thought out plans turned to shit because of our own stupidity.
A red Rover Maestro car pulled into the layby. It had one working side light and the registration was OIL 2501. There were three young fellas in the car. We didn’t know them. They asked us if we wanted a lift. We accepted and got in. My mate was in the middle seat and I sat at the door.
The car smelt of beef Monster Munch. Breaking the ice, we told the fellas that their car stunk. They asked us our names and where we were from. We told them and found that we had mutual friends.