Urban myth 10

We were having too much fun to notice. The DJ set was sublime for the venue, the crowd was hopping considering it was mid-week at the Ormond, Club UFO. I'd come from work via the pub and I was letting loose, knowing I'd pay for my few hours of physical efforts on the dance floor the next day. 

I wasn't high. Probably half the crowd were the same. Anyone that had a job to go to wouldn't be high in a club on a Wednesday. I was there that night because I worked with one of the DJs, John D. And he had spun up an old-skool storm. I don't have rhythm on a dance floor but I can move to rave 'til the lights are switched off. 

And that was how we didn't notice them. Two near the speakers and two near the toilets. Wearing an Hawaiian shirt uniform. I had a pain in my face from smiling, my mates were giving it large and then the music stopped abruptly just before the bass dropped on a 'toon. There were shouts of disappointment followed by shouts of disbelief followed by fear. In ten seconds we were face down on the floor, hands by our heads. Bass buzzed in my ears still. I remember thinking how stupid the drug squad was to raid a midweek rave with hardly any ecstasy. Big clubs were awash with the stuff at weekends. Nobody I was with had necked a pill except Baz. And that was Aspirin because he had a toothache. I felt relief.

Then I turned to my right. Ed. A sheer look of horror on his face. He was a motorcycle courier from the westside and had been involved in a few dodgy moves around town. I'd seen him at the rave but we weren't hanging out together. I could see he had a right to be horrified. He was gripping a tiny bag, one of those you get the tiny IKEA washers in now. The bag contained 3-4 pills. He was going down for possession, no doubt about it. The guards were going through the crowd, getting everyone to empty pockets. They were getting close. I stared at Ed, feeling sorry for him although not too much because I was pretty sure he'd helped stage a robbery weeks earlier when the wages drop in work was taken at gun point.

He looked to see where the four Magnum P.I.s were in the room. Closer. And with a sleight of hand you wouldn't see in a poker game, he flicked the tiny bag at my head. Now I was going down for possession. Ed's head turned away from me. He had just completely done me over and didn't want to look at me. My peripheral vision told me I had five seconds before the cops would get to me. I covered the bag with my hand, and moved it down by my side  I glanced for that one second to make sure there were no eyes on me. With a twitch that resembled the tiniest frisbee in the world being thrown I skimmed the bag through the air and watched it land between Ed's legs. What had probably taken a couple of seconds felt like an eternity. My heart rate was so high it was as though I'd swallowed every one of those pills.

Ed twitched and moved his legs in panic. His face was turned away from me but I could picture his expression. And because he twitched and spasmed with pure fear, the detectives were on him quickly. Latex-gloved hands found the baggy. Ed was hoisted to his feet. He managed to give me a brutal heel into the ribs as he stood, without the cops noticing but the damage was done. He and two others left in cuffs. 

I helped John D pack up his stuff. Our sullen group discussed the whole episode. I thought about Ed as I nursed my ribs. Couldn't believe he'd do that. But then reality woke me up and I knew he could do worse. 

I freewheeled into work the next morning, called dispatch over the radio as I sipped my coffee outside Bendini and Shaw. As I waited for my first job Ed pulled up on his clapped out Honda, fag in mouth. I glared at him. I put my bike down and started across towards him, red rage guiding me. Another motorbike courier pulled up beside him. I stopped. Ed spoke.

"Ah Jaysus! How's the ribs?" He flicked the fag out into the oncoming traffic and drove away.