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This is a question I witnessed a crime

Freddy Woo writes, "A group of us once staggered home so insensible with drink that we failed to notice someone being killed and buried in a shallow grave not more than 50 yards away. A crime unsolved to this day."

Have you witnessed a crime and done bugger all about it? Or are you a have-a-go hero?
Whatever. Tell us about it...

(, Thu 14 Feb 2008, 11:53)
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Back in t'day c2001 I was but a saleboy for a well known highstreet store that may or may not be the namesake of a certain member of Arsenal's Famous back four I'll give you a little clue, the shop is not called Winterburn, Kewon, or Bould.

It was a Saturday like any other. A clear, sunny day. Nothing out of the ordinary whatsoever. What happened next could have changed one man's life forever.

Ian (for thats his name blah blah blah). Ian is the deputy manager of the above nameless store. A medium hight, skinny lad with a bad right knee with the kind of glint in his eye that said 'there is someone home, but the lights on'. He was always on the ball, and always knew everything that was going on around him.

Sasha, a rather buxom young thing with raven black hair and an arse that could crack wallnuts (hired mostly for her looks), she could charm the wallet out of your pocket, the birds out of the trees, and superman from the sky's (ok that last one if a bit of an exaggeration, everyone knows Lois was the only one for Superman)

Several members of staff are milling about, trying to get the great unwashed to but their merchandise. Then we all have a star-trek moment. It was surreal. We all became aware of a guy running form the store and alot of shouting from Sasha about how he's half inched something. Time seemed to slow down and speed up at the same time.

This guy was a tall guy, but not muscular. He was lean and dressed in a dirty ripped white t-shirt, jeans and trainers. Carrying a holdall. As this guy ran from the store, Ian and myself (being the nearest guys) legged it after him. He jumped over one of those railings that sit on the side of the road into the oncoming traffic. Several cars screetched to a stop and this guy half ran/stumbled from the road. We got a hand on him as he tried to get away but momentum had the better of us and he was able to get away. All the while not letting go of this holdall.

Ian and I in hot persuit, we legged it down the highstreet following him. He was running full pelt, and so we were. Ian and myself arent exactly unfit, but damn this bloke must have ran professionally.

What played out next haunted me for a few weeks.

This bloke, looking back to see how close/far behind we were, didnt see a pram (or buggy for you 'merkins) emerge from a shop. The dad didnt see three lads running as if their life depended on it. This guy bundled into the pram. The baby was strapped in (luckly) but the pram went tumbling. So did he and he was cut. The dad obviously saw to the kid, who was crying like a trooper. Poor little mite.

The guy was on the floor for a few seconds, enough time for Ian and me to catch this scene of carnage, wrecking an innocent family day out. The guy reached into his holdall. Instantly we knew why he wasnt going to let go of it. He had needles. Lots of them. All dirty. With packets of powder.

Grabbing a needle, we could hear the sound of sirens in the back ground. He uttered the immortal words "come near me and i'll give you HIV" We all froze. Ian, myself, the mum and dad. Only the baby was crying. balling her heart out.

It was another one of those star-trek moments. Time slowed down, yet within seconds Police were on the scene. He was hit a few times with a baton and arrested (and possibly maced I cant remember)

As we took in the gravity of the whole situation. Ian turned pale. He looked at me and I could tell instantly he would need me to say something to re-assure him. He made dead-level eye contact. "I'm cut". He slowly lifted his hand and sure enough he had cuts and grazes on his hand. I looked at mine. I was grazed, but not cut.

It was another three months before Ian got the all clear from the hospital. Three months of worry. For a skinny lad he lost weight. Three months of not being able to have sex with his ultra-supportive girlfriend.

We went on the biggest bender once he got the all clear.
(, Thu 14 Feb 2008, 16:02, 5 replies)
I'm fairly sure, after recieving the all clear from a HIV test, that the best way to remain terminal virus free is not to have a 'go on a big bender'.

Surely some sort of drink based celebration would have been more in keeping?
(, Thu 14 Feb 2008, 16:59, closed)

(, Fri 15 Feb 2008, 2:08, closed)
What happened to the druggie next?
Locked away? Let off? Did you get to find out?
(, Fri 15 Feb 2008, 13:27, closed)
Adam's ?

(, Mon 18 Feb 2008, 18:45, closed)
Giles Grimandi?
(, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 11:56, closed)

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