The Hate Collective - James Powell (free ebook reader for android .txt) 📗

She then wished everybody a good night, and left hastily, hoping to avoid any more stares from the lowlife that was gathered there that night.
The three men were now alone, sitting in silence. Michael had nearly finished his second drink and his head was spinning.
‘You seem pretty pissed off about being mugged’, said Tony, hoping that Michael would open up a bit now that they were out of the confines of group therapy, with it’s atmosphere of reasonableness, and no swearing policy. He was happy to oblige.
‘Yeah. I am. Why can’t I walk down the street without being mugged? I was just minding my own business, and then some guy pulls a knife and threatens me. What did I ever do to him? Why me? I’m not even rich. Threatened with a knife for forty quid. It’s a fucking disgrace.’ The alcohol was speaking for him now.
‘I tell you, if I ever saw that guy again, he’d wish he never took my money. If I knew where he lived, he’d fucking regret it, that’s for sure.’
The other two glanced at each other knowingly as Michael almost spat these words out.
‘Listen mate’, said Tony, realising that his new friend was a little tired and emotional. ‘You need to get a cab home now, but the three of us should have a proper chat next time. I like Joan, but we just want to speak with you ok?’
Michael was relieved, not by the suggestion of another meeting, but by the opportunity of going home soon. He shouldn’t have drunk so quickly, as it had gone straight to his head and he was starting to look like a total fucking lightweight in front of two guys who clearly didn’t feel the effects of alcohol until a serious amount had been consumed. The idea of taking a taxi home was a welcome one, as he didn’t feel like standing around waiting for a bus to arrive, and he didn’t really fancy walking either, so he decided to be extravagant for a change and fork out for a cab. Ten minutes later, he thanked the guys for asking him to the pub, and left quickly, looking forward to a few hours sleep. When he was out of the door, Steve looked across at Tony.
‘You reckon he’d be up for it?’ Slowly, a smile spread across his face. ‘Yeah, I think he will.’

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Publication Date: 06-11-2011

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