Friday night.

I've run out of baccy so at 9pm on Friday night I walk from Sun street to bargin booze in new market street. At the end of sunstreet I spot a group of kids leaving the Mill Dam playgound.  They're about 15 and each is toteing a can of something, and greet me with a call of Hey cowboy Col. Next minute they're milling around, lets have a go with your hat, come on, lets try your hat on. No, I say but they keep on, what about your glasses, come on. Then one of them comes from behind and knocks my hay off, playfully, I suppose, but I find this a bit annoying. Halfway down Stanley street, my hat is knocked off again, but I take it in my stride and carry on my way, whilst they peel off towards the fair that is pumping away in the Gill. The night is full of teenage noise mingled with the music from the various rides, and the pavements are strewn with flying sourcers, the sweets, being sold no doubt at the fair. Oh the joys of youth, trampling on our tidy litttle town. So on to the centre of town and the noise of the fair fades to be replaced by the hubub of Friday night, but much less threatening. I bargin booze I meet Dyanne, from Spirit of Youth who has just finished her stint with the police ferreting out the drinkers who have been collecting at the top of Chittery lane. This seems to be the new hang out, and she's knackered. She's hoping to get these older kids diverted from their weekly outdoor boozeing sessions, but it sounds like a trying to stop the tide coming in.  Sarah is  behind the till tonight. She has a straight forward approach to all this she would give them a good slapping. I walk out into New market and muse on the irony of it all. Bargin Booze give employment to people and sell cheap booze that undercuts the pubs and sends the kids out to chittery lane and elsewhere, and the police spend all night chasing them, whilst they leave a mountain of litter, which gives the refuse people something to do. It's a mad mad world, and in the Gill the kids are having a great time, someone is being sick, and the streets are even more littered with the detritous of  Friday night. I open my front door, open a bottle of wine and settle back to listen the the play on radio 4. Maybe I'm getting old.