when neds attack

today, for the first time that I can recall or think of, I was subject to racism. I know what you’re all thinking – racism? really? but sadly, it’s true. I was walking in my neighbourhood down to the pub to read the evening herald. I came upon a swarm of neds*, a bunch of thirteen-year-olds in sweat pants and bad haircuts. now, these hoodlums are pretty frequent all over the suburbs of the city, so I paid them no mind. then I spotted one little jerk with sunnies perched low on his nose. I fought the urge to remark ‘nice glasses, bono’ but as I glanced his way I was met with his sneer and the ugly remark: ginger. the clenched fist within my jumper pocket was poised and ready to knock the little beggar in the jaw, but then I remembered that I’m the adult, and he’s the one who doesn’t even shave yet. so I didn’t break stride, I didn’t react in the least, and continued past the boy and his little gaggle of thugs. I thought to myself, what now? a bit stung, I considered walking into debbie’s, purchasing a box of garnier and dying these red locks away, but then, how to hide the smattering of freckles and undeniably porcelain skin? I had to face it, I am and always have been stricken with gingervitis. I thought then about the boy, his cocky little pre-pubescent shenanigans, and his puke friends. what freaky kind of parents do they have that they feel the need to try and insult those older (or better, or more intelligent, or prettier) than themselves to feel sort of important? also what kind of parents let their kids out of the house dressed in pjs? really!

upon arriving at my cozy local pub, I reveled in the knowledge that the lounge I sat in wouldn’t permit those little punks for at least another five years. I opened the herald to a news story about a riot that had occurred the previous evening (St Patrick’s) in a neighbourhood very similar to my own. a group of more than one hundred youths, some as young as ten, had ransacked a small community. they had knocked down lamp posts, broken windows, slashed tires, and set cars on fire. they had attacked gardai, pulled motorists from cars and beat them, and then ran back to their mother’s homes for evening tea and footie pajamas. this isn’t just a problem in dublin, I’ve read many a news story about the restless and troublemaking youths within ireland and the uk. I wonder what exactly is being taught in schools and at home, that these kids have no respect whatsoever for authority, the elderly, property, each other, themselves, or anything really at all. I worry more, though, about what happens when they reach adulthood.

*non-educated delinquint