“You can’t help me. I’m so angry. So angry.”

It is last Friday evening and I convince my boyfriend Chris to take me for a walk in the dark and cold of Lancaster city.

Lancaster train station - the scene of the minor incident

The weather is awful and it’s nine in the evening so most people who are out are starting to get lairy and demand McDonalds or they are aiming for one of the five or six student clubs in the town. The rain hits the cobblestones and the leaves are sticking to the pavements, making the paths treacherous for the people in short skirts and high heels. But it feels good to be out.

We walk and we walk and I eventually start to forget the irks of the working week. My job pays me. I’m learning how to write web pages and I’m writing pages for newspapers each week. I’m not starving. My frustration starts to collapse under its own weight. Not that it won’t be back again tomorrow.

At the far end of the road, on the way back to our house, I hear a shout and see a large shape silhouetted by the headlights of a taxi. In the middle of the road a man is lying on his back, barely moving.

The traffic comes to a halt and I pace into the middle of the street. This man, probably about 35, is rolling slightly, trying to get up and failing.

There’s another girl next to me. A student with a neat parka and a woollen beret on –she looks horrified and must disappear because by the time me and Chris have supported the drunk man to the side of the road, in a pretty dangerous, weaving manner, she’s gone and we are left with an intoxicated Caribbean man who can’t walk but is managing to cling onto a carrier bag with six cans of seven per cent paint stripper. He has a cut oozing blood above his right eye. If I let go of his arm, even for a second, he starts to topple back into the road.

This was two nights ago but I need time to write the rest so I’ll finish it tomorrow.


3 Responses to ““You can’t help me. I’m so angry. So angry.””

  1. I look forward to reading the rest! In the mean time….

    a familiar face……………..


  2. Reminds me of a night I had in Edinburough trying to get a drunken lady we found in the gutter home in one piece….

    • I think maybe quite a lot of young people have rescued drunk people, and not just friends.
      I don’t make a point to go out there and find others to send home but a few years ago there was another incident where a woman had got drunk, fallen over and smacked their head against the pavement. This time in York. Me and three friends carried the half conscious, 40-year-old back to her house with the help of her partner, who couldn’t carry her on his own.

      Alcohol is a strange thing…

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