The cactus garden
6
began to Where and when?
What has annoyed you?
What did you just ruined it?
The Stars - What you have just ruined it?
Chris has been turned the corner towards the parking lot, he noticed me yet. I stopped to run and go after him now with quick steps. My ears are buzzing, but not loud enough to the sound of rushing blood and my heart beating to drown. The wine bottle, I believe such start firmly clasped around her neck that my fingers know and sign up only in passing that the rest of the stinking Lambrusco in the sleeve of my jacket is what I wear for the funeral. Much more me busy my face. I touched my tongue with the front teeth and I am sure that at least one, if not even sit two loose. My nose, which feels as if she had grown to twice their size, and greatly hurts the warm, tasting slightly snot Blood runs through my lips and drips down my face. I wipe again and again how an eight-year-old on a cold winter morning, with the sleeves under the nose down, but that will only cause I smear the red Kroffi in half on my face and clothes.
I look around the corner, still mad with rage and scarcely able to think clearly and see Chris on his black BMW is received. I am only a few meters from him and he noticed me, by some miracle still, although I bumpkin like a mad rhino and hinschniefe myself as a music producer who has just a line marching powder from the rear of an eighteen year-old pop starlet has drawn. My friend reaches into his pocket and presses on the remote control key. In the flash of light the turn signal, I raise my bottle of wine over my head, Christian turns around suddenly, as he would have heard something.
His eyes are big and he stumbles to his car.
Before I know if I actually fly down the bottle and explode on the head of my friend, let me turn someone's arm with the bottle of pain on his back and makes me a leg. I have no chance to support me and clap at the same time with the wine bottle, with face first onto the asphalt. I feel like one of my front teeth nachgibt und ein Stück heraus bricht. Ich jaule auf vor Schmerz und Überraschung und höre eine raue Männerstimme, die mich aus nächster Entfernung zu meinem Ohr anbrüllt. Verstehen tu ich nichts, weder akustisch, noch die sich geänderten Umstände in denen ich mich befinde.
Ich versuche meinen Kopf zu heben und zur Seite zu drehen, als dieser wieder hart runtergedrückt wird, wobei ich mir mit dem angebrochenen Zahn stark auf die Zunge beiße. Frisches Blut mischt sich mit meinem Speichel. Noch nie in meinem Leben war ich so wütend.
Ich bäume mich auf, versuche mich zu wehren, ich sehe aus wie eins der Psychokinder aus so einer Real-Life-Dokumentation. Tränen fließen down my cheeks, I Keifer, spit blood Strampel, drum their feet on the ground until someone sits with her knees to my shoulder blades to me to fix Sun Despite the hopelessness of the situation, I try to continue to pull away, when suddenly the cold metal of handcuffs on my wrists, the backs to each other.
The adolescent would-be punk is not go far without a bull story. The confrontation with the authorities on the one you need to fully train your punk attitude, then you're talking about not only yes, but have also experienced times like really shit the police and the other to brag. Let it at concerts, parties or dates. My personal bull story I share with my Bollo.
Bollo's real name is Timothy Relund, a terrible name. Where did he get his nickname I can not say exactly what that means, that no special or exciting story behind it, Bollo fit just come to Timo. Bollo
I know more than we are friends, I kept him at first for a rather unfriendly, arrogant and unnecessarily aggressive asshole. When I got to know him better, but I noticed that my assumptions are not entirely wrong, but in the microcosm Bollone quite make sense. He was always the most direct, action-oriented, aggressive and therefore somehow more mature of us all. When we got to know us better, we discover a kind of kinship between us, as they can only adolescent males.
Our big brothers were the same age, were known to each other, and everywhere we were raised on them and were to some extent in its shadow. We were a fan of the exact same bands, liked the same movies and hated the same people. The only issue we had was whether there was Long and Thanks for All the Shoes or White Trash, and to Heeb's Been a NOFX Album So the best and we all know it is so long oh well Bollo also allowed to make mistakes.
like to, I started him on a very hot Day at the local lake. It was the last summer vacation begins before my education should be (Right, the anarchist would serve not the state as a slave who had nothing better to do than for its magnificent 3.8 he start secondary school certificate an apprenticeship as an electrician, what do I do?) .
Our entire circle of acquaintances had gathered in a meadow, an old boom box, this name does not deserve actually played our favorite songs, as sampler BRD Punk Terror battle or BRD.
appeared out of nowhere, a police car, a VW bus similar to the cycle paths in and drove at walking pace alongside the young people drinking her to show police presence.
Bollo, the NOFX to be not on his T-shirt looked at his punk attitude, got up suddenly and walked over to the police van. The next thing we saw how he was knocked against the side window of the cab, the passenger got out at once, seized him and laughing loudly Bollo on the bus and pushed the door drew upon from the inside.
all young people watch the show began to roar, the first anti-police slogans took to drive, turned the car and the bottles just missed him and drove the bus, no longer in step-like pace. Later we learned
that Bollo, after the disk was turned down, babbling and smiling, said: "Hi, I'd like one with two scoops of vanilla, a chocolate and a Sergeant, uh, Woodruff, sorry. "
surprised by this open audacity, have him then cashed the police and made the usual checks, could sue really he is not, of course, but without any reaction did the officials not let it go. I believe in the profession you are automatically humor completely resistant against mouthed adolescents.
From the day we Bollo was an institution. Not just him, all the green-white ice cream van story was a so-called Urban Legend in our city. Even today I meet people who tell you that a friend of a friend would have done just that.
frivolous impressed, I thought the Bollo probably not so can be a post.
later one to two parties, we were friends. We exchanged our thoughts on the Bundeswehr, the approaching police state, women, movies and alcohol.
We were almost all in the same opinion, and even though I've never had a ranking that can be said that it and linked me something. I get it together to this day right, but somehow, the chemistry simply if you will.
It must have been pretty much a year later, when I had my first serious encounter with the police. Of course I was
for concerts or the like has often in the anonymous mass und habe auf die Bullen geschimpft, allerdings wurde ich bis zu diesem Abend nie persönlich mit ihnen konfrontiert.
Jetzt sind Bollo und ich die letzten Gäste im Rock on, der einzigen Disko in unserer Kleinstadt. Trotz des Namens läuft hier überhaupt nicht unsere Musik. Der Laden ist die typische Dorfdisko mit Mini-Tanzfläche, schlechten Clubsongs und dem lokalen Proletenpack. Allerdings auch mit den charakteristischen Saufangeboten für gelangweilte Jugendliche. Kartensaufen. 25 DM (oder waren es schon Euro?) für eine Karte bezahlen, auf der ein Guthaben von 50 verzeichnet ist.
Jeder von uns hat mittlerweile eine Karte leer und wir trinken mit Hilfe der Reste auf den Karten unserer bereits gegangen Freunde. Die gefühlte achtzigste Mischung Wodka-Kirsch kriecht meinen Rachen hinunter.
Nach einem weiteren Wu Tang Clan Song verstummt die Musik und die Lichter gehen an. Wir werden freundlich aber bestimmt gebeten zu gehen. Nach einigen besoffenen Verhandlungen, können wir für die letzten noch nicht markierten Geldkästchen auf den Karten zwei Flaschenbiere herausschlagen und haben so sogar noch Reiseproviant.
Als wir den Hof des Rock on betreten ist der Himmel schon etwas aufgehellt. Ich versuche Bollo einen Schrittfehler zu verpassen, wobei ich beinah selbst mein Gleichgewicht verliere.
Wir reden lallend über Musik, darüber wie cool es doch wäre, wenn mitten im Hip Hop Song ein Lied von Slime eingespielt werden würde. Deutschland, Karlsquell, ACAB Bull or pigs.
begin in telepathic agreement we both while singing. Through the streets of one-family houses resounds the echo. "Fascism here in this country, is gradually prevail, we must do something about it, otherwise we can not the cops alone!". We shout so loud that we do not hear the sound of approaching from behind. The headlights are perceived only peripherally, as we apply to the chorus. "We do not want! Pig! We do not want! Pig! Molly and stones! Bull against pigs! "
hardly is the last Bull pigs died away, the police car passed us und kommt quietschend vor uns auf dem Bürgersteig zum Stehen.
Ein glatzköpfiger Riese von einem Polizisten steigt bereits brüllend mit hochrotem Kopf aus dem Auto. Er kreischt irgendwas von Respektlosigkeit, davon das wir betrunken sind und das er unsere Personalausweise sehen will. Ich muss zugeben, ich bin eingeschüchtert von dieser Gestalt und greife schon zu meinem Portmonee, als Bollo laut zu lachen anfängt. Ich nehme die Hand aus meiner Tasche und greife stattdessen zu meinem Bier, welches ich aus Reflex zu meinen Füssen abgestellt hatte. Die Bowlingkugel wird noch lauter: „Jetzt raus mit euren Scheiß Personalausweisen! Sofort!“. „Warum?“ fragt Bollo, „Weil wir ein Lied gesungen haben?“ and has the greasy grin on his face I have ever seen. "Gg-exactly" I mix myself a "we just sang a song, what is even available on CD, so the fascist one's singing is forbidden, this state is still not right?". Even surprised by my courage, I note in passing as someone second exit from the car. A blond woman jumps out of the car and speaks to her radio: "Two rioters rear corner street, St Andrew Way, request reinforcement.
formed in my head slowly, the idea that we can only draw the short straw, but that while the behavior of officials at ridiculous hardly be surpassed ist.
Diesmal beginne ich laut zu Lachen, ich halte mir sogar mit einer Hand den Bauch und als der männliche Beamte weiter brüllt und uns auffordert unsere Ausweise zu zeigen, während Bollo ihm eine völlig bescheuerte Rede über Meinungsfreiheit hält, kommen wir aufgrund der Surrealität der Situation die Tränen.
„Du willst diskutieren?“ sagt der Polizist in einem bedeutend ruhigeren Ton, um danach umso lauter fortzufahren:„Dir ist schon klar, dass das Beamtenbeleidigung war?! Was hattet ihr gesagt?“ „Bullenschweine!“ antwortet Bollo wie aus der Pistole geschossen. „Ah, schon wieder!“. Neunmalklug, ohne zu wissen das er am kürzeren Hebel sitzt says Bollo: "Well, first I sang only one song that appeared on the Slime CD's seed, and secondly, even would say if I like that they are a cop, pig, what I do not do, that would be only an expression my opinion. "
Before him will be answered, two more police cars turn the corner. Bollo starts to laugh out loud again. I had almost calmed down and I have now even put on the floor. Instead of the song echoes now get off our laughter by the road than from any car, even two police officers.
Since there are six police officers in front of me and Bollo, two very innocent-looking seventeen-year olds who are so drunk they are barely can. When we are threatened that they get the cards, if we do not give them, we throw them still whinnying our Persos.
During one of the newly arrived police officers, sits down with our statements in a car and the loudmouth shouting at us continue to Bollo is laughing beside me. We look at just shaking his head, unable to understand what this elevation is.
We make a few provocative jokes about dead bodies that we would have buried in the woods and lighted cars when we get back our identity cards already.
suddenly changes the tone of the official who now probably do not know quite what was it all. He screams no longer speaks to us but from a place reference, and tells us that we, we should not apologize to him and his colleague, expect a fine for insulting had. Now it is back again Bollo the losprustet while even shows the finger at the officials like a kid in the playground laughing at what a different child. The complexion of the police officer is again significantly darker and he and yells "Now bugger off at last!" In the face as we continue to attract Giggling Danner.
Five days later, I stand before my deep disappointment-eyed parents and explain to them the situation and say that they have to pay 150 DM fine for me and ask im selben Atemzug ob sie den Brief für mich einrahmen könnten.
Ich wache unter einer kratzigen Decke auf. Mir tut alles weh aber das schlimmste ist der Durst. Der Geschmack in meinem Mund ist undefinierbar und unerträglich. Ich öffne die Augen und sehe Fliesen. Ich sehe ein alles einnehmendes Grau. Es riecht nach Desinfektionsmitteln und meinen eigenen Ausdünstungen. Außerdem habe ich den eisenhaltigen Geruch von Blut in der Nase.
Die Erinnerung kehrt langsam aber umso erschreckender zurück. Hätte ich wirklich Chris erschlagen wenn nichts dazwischen gekommen wäre? Ich kann es mir kaum vorstellen, hatte allerdings schon ausgeholt, das weiß ich ganz genau. Hätte ich noch withdrawn?
I rummage through my pockets and notice here that I was taken off my phone, my wallet, keys and even my belt. I can still remember the ride in the patrol car and the fact that one of the policemen who arrested me had a mustache on the Magnum would have been jealous. I must have fallen asleep at some point. The arrival of the police station is completely deleted.
I do not have a clock that is still a reliable sense of time and a window it is not natural.
I to judge, due to wince in pain together in my head. I exploiting my face stringent. I feel crusted blood, my nose is extremely swollen and my lips are numb. When I was scanning with the tongue my teeth I find the broken tooth and cringe. Even my tongue hurts and sucks the taste of blood is everywhere. Now what I need even more urgent and important to drink a mirror. A sink would be an advantage. At least one toilet is here. I stand and swaying gently in front of the tinny hole in the ground and try to avoid the biggest splash and enjoy the relaxation of pressure on my bladder. A sigh of wind and leaves my mouth hurts again on the damaged tooth.
When I waver for a Bell or the like around, I hear how the latch of the door be pushed back behind me. "Well, has rested Sleeping Beauty". A police officer who stops for fun, that's what I need it now. I turn around and there is indeed the shouter stands in the doorway. It has become clear older, got himself a fancy ring made of hair growth, but it is unmistakably the same official. I try to speak to my dry lips stick and when I open them I hear the sound of a formal Velcro. "Um ... Hi ... I can go ... well,". I'll wait a few terrible seconds that he recognizes me and like to think, to see how he is trying to classify me in his memoirs. "Jupp, we just need ne signed by them and then they get their stuff back. They can also expect mail from us, for resisting arrest. Post from the attorney of their friend, they'll have this too. "He added smugly.
I follow him up the stairs to the office, I will sign a statement which I did not even read through and stumble out of the station. I just want to get out as quickly as possible here.
Now I'm at the ass of the world, without a car. The worst thing I could think of now, bus or train would be to drive. I look in my wallet and find a tenner. Taxi is also so shallow. I walk down the street, look into my phone, which I had been issued since the funeral. Two minutes later I had four short messages. A future of my ex-wife, who feigns pity and asks if everything was okay, one that me pointing out the five new messages on my mailbox, one from Chris, who asks me what I actually imagining who I am and that he talk to me and wants the last of Bollo. Timo, my soul mate, my hetero-life partner, the only one who understood the situation and asks me if I'm in the message clear, not if I was to report me. If anyone can help me then er. Ich wähle mit zitternden Händen Bollos Nummer. Dank des Sendens meiner Nummer hebt er mit den Worten ab: „Ben? Alles klar?“.
„Hey Bollo, kannst du dich noch an den glatzköpfigen Riesenbullen erinnern?“
Fortsetzung folgt...
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