Hard-boy

Last Monday, after arriving back in the City from the previous fare, Lost, I stopped for dinner in a Surry Hills cafe. The establishment serves South Asian fare and is operated by fundamental Pakistanis with robes, theological pamphlets...and good lamb.

Shortly after sitting down to a plate of rice, meat and veggies, there was a commotion at the front servery where a fella was bargaining for a cheap meal. He was maybe twenty or forty years old; of South Asian or aboriginal descent; either drunk or on drugs. What was plain was his obvious toughness from a scarred face, bloodshot eyes, unkempt hair and bedraggled attire.

He glanced around at the empty diner, not so much in embarrassment at his impoverished state but in open defiance. As our gaze met his eyes lit up, ‘Ya wanna go!?’ In that instant I easily recognised a hardened street grifter and quickly returned to my meal.

Then a second ruckus occurred when a very drunken couple staggered into the shop. The boyfriend reminded me of that short INXS saxophone player, wearing a sharp casual suit and fast black-framed spectacles, Bono style. They were a trendy inner city couple aged in their thirties.

“Service, my man! Food for my little pappadum,” commanded the boyfriend, delivered in a convivial manner. It sounded pretty funny, actually, and both of them doubled up in laughter whilst the shopkeeper dealt with hard-boy. He, in turn, was surprised by the drunken couple’s rowdy entrance and deliberately stepped back to size them up. Uh oh, I thought...

The diner boss finally relented and served hard-boy a small takeaway container of rice topped with a splash of butter chicken sauce.  Rather than leave, however, hard-boy entered the dining area and chose a table next to mine.

The drunken couple took his lead and also careered into the cafe. They chose an adjoining table and the three of them exchanged greetings. “Good, plain food, bro,” remarked hard-boy between shovelling mouthfuls of rice.

The couple were high and happy and plainly tried to ignore him, yet couldn’t keep their laughter down. Hard boy bristled at their cold shoulder and started presenting his credentials. Unfortunately, however, the couple were too engrossed in their revelry to hear of his criminal record.

Next thing he produced two stubbies of beer and cracked one open. The hovering boss pounced with the ‘ol no-license claim and an argument ensued. Of course the couple had to recklessly interject in support of the shopkeeper, which led to hard-boy turning on the woman. “Shut ya fuckin’ mouth, bitch!” he snarled.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey!” the boyfriend loudly responded, half rising. Hard-boy immediately sprang from his seat and chested the boyfriend, in the manner of a pre-match face off, Anthony Mundine style. With a vicious snort through flared nostrils he suddenly feigned a head-butt, though the boyfriend was too drunk to flinch and held his ground.

The cook emerged from the kitchen and pulled hard-boy away whilst the boss picked up his beers and walked to the door. “What the fuck, bro!” protested hard-boy. “That c... started it. You gonna believe a whitey over a brother?  You my people, man!?” This remark indicated to me he was aboriginal, not South Asian, though there may well be an anthropological connection.

“Go, go!” replied the boss with a wave of his hand. “Fuck you, you fuckin’ coolie!” spat hard-boy. And he left the shop issuing challenges to the drunken couple, how he would be waiting for them. They, stupidly, could only laugh uproariously at their unexpected, yet entirely predictable confrontation.

I rose to leave and waiting to pay, addressed the boyfriend. “Mate, you should be very careful, he’s a hard boy.” “So?” he replied, still giggling. “Didn’t you hear him before?” I asked. “He just got off an armed robbery today and has a rap sheet of 26 charges.” The boyfriend sneered, “I don’t care, no one talks to my girl like that.” “It doesn’t matter,” I told him. “Unless you can fight like a threshing machine you’ll end up in hospital tonight - he’s waiting outside for you.” But my warning seemed wasted.

Sure enough, outside I spotted hard-boy waiting across the road in the shadows, directly opposite the shop. Driving away I watched in the rear mirror as he stepped onto the roadway and with the action of a bocce player, carefully lobbed a beer bottle to land outside the cafe. The message was clear.

Comments

[BB]

A very apt description of the type of idiot that I have met occasionally in my travels. That kind of person is just pure poison to all around them - unfettered, bottled anger that just has to be inflicted on the rest of the world.

[Josh]

Sounds like a hard way to learn that discretion is the better part of valor

[kartar]

Been there, done that. *sighs*. I had a similar experience on Redfern station one night where an Aboriginal guy decided I was somehow disrespecting him. I gave him a smile, an apology - "Sorry man what's the trouble?" and offered him a cigarette. That defused the situation and the guy and I sat and had a chat.

Similarly, living in Collingwood now and spending a lot of time on Smith St, I find that a smile (and a cigarette go a long way) to defusing tensions.

Reacting and getting angry just messes up the situation and next thing you know you're getting the crap beaten out of you. No shame being pragmatic. Anything else is macho bullshit.

[Rainer the cabbie]

Kartar is right, you have to defuse the situation with a fellow like that. So an offer of a peaceful cigarette or a brick to the back of the head always helps.
What amazes me is that normal cabbies sit in some plastic fast food joint, scoffing down rubbish food in a annoying atmosphere, or have some greasy kebab by the side of the road. But not our roving Cablog reporter, he gets to eat nutritious, albeit fundamental, well cooked food and gets a show thrown in for free. Thanks for the story Adrian.

[James]

This is why gun confiscation remains one of the black marks on John Howard's government -- the possibility that an ordinary citizen might not need to "fight like a threshing machine" to stand up to a "hard boy" would make at least a few of them think twice, and would thin out the ranks of those who didn't!

[Goldstein]

Uh oh..

Regarding James' comment -Rainer, I'm not getting involved ! Just hope Paul (ex-brissie cabbie) isn't reading this one..

Mostly it is I guess easier to not fall into the trap of reacting back with aggression.. but sometimes a peace-loving git like myself is in a bad bad mood, and some half-drunk idiot trying to disrespect me just can't be let go..

If a 2 metre tall, 150kg patched Gypsy Joker is having a poke, I'd probably decline.. but if it's a schickered skinny scrote I'd usually tell him to go and f**k himself in a firm voice, and back it up with the stare.. macho bullshit it may be (kartar above) but, no, sorry, I won't scuttle about like somebody's bitch..

It's just all about being awake to your surroundings, knowing the exits (lol), "know when to walk away, know when to run.."

Luck's a fortune.. I can't see the future, so I try and be sensible -don't go to Nazi gatherings wearing a yamulka, don't go to Bikie Clubrooms and yell "faggots", don't walk about the inner city alone at 2am in a pink outfit, don't get drunk and wander about..

[downshifta]

Good stuff Adrian,what a well written piece keep it up ,you've got my attention.
Brian (Surry Hills)

[Brisman33]

In Singapore, filth like him are locked up not wandering the streets causing trouble. Nobody gets to accumulate a rap sheet of 26 charges, they are locked up in preventative detention well before it gets to that stage. Fire a gun during a robbery and they hang you. A police state ? Yes but you can walk around safely at 2am

[Paul (ex-brissie cabbie)]

Excellent example of a civil society.... Singapore is a real gem - lived there for 2 years.

It is a great city.....

Gun controller and hard boy control all in the 1 state!

[kartar]

@goldstein Until the skinny guy turns out to be high on ice or have a knife or six friends around the corner. In my experience you can maintain your dignity and not get pushed around and not be a macho idiot.

[Librarian]

Ahh, good ol' Slurry Hills, such a nice place, pity about the large amount of wankers that frequent it. The smart thing you could of told the drunk couple to do would be to call the cops I'd say. But good thing you at least warned them,

great blog by the way. long time reader, first time poster.

[Goldstein]

kartar..

You do it your way, and I'll continue to do it my way, OK ?

I'm amazed at how strident and pushy so-called "non-violent" types who leave comments on this blog are.. I'm over it.

I mean, Jesus.. not every dickhead who acts out in public is carrying a weapon.. not every dickhead who acts out in public is a black belt, or has "six friends around the corner" -if you'd bothered to read my comment, I made it quite clear that my response is entirely dependent on the cues and context of the particular situation -read it. I did not suggest that I would engage every drunk or wierdo physically -read it. Most times I'd elect to ignore or depart the problem, as was clear in my comment.

I worked Kings Cross and the inner east for years, dealing with drunks and bums and mad people most nights or days -don't tell me what I know or don't know.

So kartar -go f**k yourself -don't assume that all of us are incapable of vigorous self-defence or are untrained. Don't assume that all of us are 5' 5" and 65kg. Don't assume that all of us are blind, deaf and stupid as regards threat assessment. Your presumptions are irritating.

And enough with calling anyone who defends themselves a "macho idiot" -it would be just as valid -and just as pointless -to call anyone who cowers and runs a "pathetic sissy"..

[kartar]

@goldstein *sighs* proves my point. I read your comment. I responded. If you'd read mine you'd have seen I didn't call you a "macho idiot" just pointed out that judging situations can be difficult and that in some circumstances it can backfire. I wasn't "strident" or "pushy". Was even unfriendly. But you respond with "f**k yourself"? Which of us is being aggressive over nothing?

[Goldstein]

kartar -no it doesn't prove your "point", actually.

I'm referring to your "strident" pushing that the "right" way to handle such a situation blah blah is to -as you stated in your first comment -smile, offer cigarette, be kindly, put up with the jerk, chat with him, etc etc..

I dared to comment that I occasionally respond, after assessing the situation, by deciding not to pander to such a fool, by asserting my rights to said fool -then you come back with the implicit assertion that the alternative to your way of doing things is to act like a "macho idiot", with "macho bullshit":

From your first comment : "Reacting and getting angry just messes up the situation and next thing you know you're getting the crap beaten out of you. No shame being pragmatic. Anything else is macho bullshit"

From your second comment: "In my experience you can maintain your dignity and not get pushed around and not be a macho idiot."

So clearly you are stating that to not act as you do is to be a "macho idiot", that a response that nullifies the threat, that doesn't pander or soothe, is "macho bullshit".

I did not tell you your way of dealing was wrong -I merely stated what I occasionally do -which is apparently that which you call "macho bullshit".

And what aggression are you referring to here ? I'm typing -NOT standing a few centimetres from you, staring at you.

I'm just asserting MY right to handle a situation as I see fit -unlike you, I don't presume to judge your Salvation Army approach, because it isn't mine 100% of the time.

And I also find it irritating that you assume that to engage in a stoush will automatically mean getting beaten up. If you want to play John Lennon, be my guest -but don't tell me how to do things.

So f**k off and continue having tedious soothing chats with disturbed drunks. I elect not to, if I can help it. My experience has taught me that -sometimes -standing up and saying "ENOUGH", and refusing to be herded and bullied, works just as well as 30 minutes of sucking up. And is better for the self-esteem.

[beaker]

oh boy. i feel like i was in the shop reading that last exchange!

[adrian]

Last night I returned to the cafe for dinner and quizzed the boss. Hard-boy was threatened with police action after lobbing the bottle and duly took off, presumably wishing to avoid a second encounter with the law in one day.

However two things really surprised me...he was of South Asian heritage, despite possessing the appearance and accent of an aboriginal. And secondly, the drunken couple left the way they arrived - driving a vehicle. Idiots.