So me and a few friends are sitting in the park, drinking some beer and smoking a few joints, playing the guitar, generally having a lovely summer afternoon. A few of my friends go off to find the loo, and it's just me and my friend Jon. He's telling a story which I find immensely funny and am giggling, as you do.
'What are you laughing at?'
I'm faintly aware something threatening and unpleasant is about to happen, but try to ignore it and carry on talking to Jon.
'I said what the fuck are you laughing at?'
Ah crap. 2 guys approach.
'Nothing, my mate's just telling a story'
'You fucking laughing at us? I'll take that guitar and smash it over your fucking head'
Nothing like a guy who thinks he's Joe Pesci to round off a nice afternoon in the park. Why does this stuff always happen when you're slightly baked?
'Woah chill, we're just sitting enjoying the sunshine, we're not laughing at anybody'
We finally manage to convince them we're not laughing at them, and the guy who's doing all the talking apologises, saying there's 'gang shit' going on. At this point I'll add that my friend has long curly hair and wears cardigans and I was wearing a stripy hippyish shirt and shorts and sandals. Real mafia types.
When he realises we're students and not in a gang from out of town, he clocks us as potential customers and sits down next to us ('oh please god no') and talks about drugs and where to find student parties non-stop for what felt like hours. The quieter guy speaks up and is actually being quite nice, but there was that undertone of 'we almost got beaten up by these guys for no reason, they could easily flip out again' that made it very difficult to relax. Finally our friends came back and we decided it was a good moment to leave without looking like we're running away (which we were). Before we go he insists we take his number in case we need drugs. yah, I'm going to voluntarily meet up with a psycho who almost assaulted me in order to give him money...