Right That's It!

I'm going into hiding Thursday afternoon and coming back out Saturday morning. Weekends just ain't safe for Walrus.

After a heavyish one last night, didn't go out tonight so was lumbered with the 11pm 50-mile round trip to Croydon to pick up my little sister. As I chugged into Purley, the night began to take a turn for the worst. A group of jovial drunks, pissing about on the road were pretending to step in front of cars and such-like. One of them being a clever cunt pretends to step in front of my car, but as he retracts his foot he kicks his own leg away and falls directly in front of my car. Instinctively swerve to the other side of the road, to be greeted by the Number 468. A narrow miss later and I continued merrily, but shakily, along my way.

House on the corner, first left after the speed camera my mum had said. Hey presto, no house. I slowly travel down this one way street, ignorant to a car racing towards me. I pull over to allow him to pass, only to have the car stop alongside me. One of those flash Audi coupe's - not the poofy TT, the more manly one. Filled with four stout men, I tried not to insight them. I look blankly and suddenly they're incensed, with the passenger screaming out his window with samples of gob splattering over my freshly washed window. I quickly drive off only to see to my horror they're turning round. Screaming down this one way street, narrower and bumpier than our own Shrivenham road, the wrong way at speeds of upto 80mph, I sharply pulled down a side street, flicked the lights off and into someone's drive. I dived into the passenger stairwell and prayed my heartbeat wouldn't give me away.

About a minute passed and I dared to look up. The Audi was gone, but in itself place a stern looking Japanese man clad in pyjamas and silk dressing gown. The driveway I'd pulled up belong to a young family, and before I had time to explain I was hurriedly ushered off the driveway. Another 30 minutes of searching Croydon, with my sister's phone not working (network down she reckons) and my mum screaming at me down the phone to find my doubtless raped, mugged and murdered sister, it wasn't exactly the best of nights!!

I geniunely don't know what spurred the blokes in the car to chase me, but judging the passenger's diatribe, I would guestimate he'd was more drugged up than Richard Bacon on a Smithklein-Beecham open-day!