My brother did get mugged tonight. He’s been beaten up before, but this time things were stolen. He’s very unlucky. I’m quite upset. He’s a nice person, wouldn’t hurt a fly. Filthy chavs. They grabbed him by the neck and punched him to the ground, demanding his phone and house keys and also taking his bag with work clothing in it. He has one large bruised cheek now and grazes and marks on his neck. I wanted to text his phone and tell those @!*&ing chavs what I thought of them. He wouldn’t let me though.
The police came. Two hours later. Not their fault though, Friday night and there’s a lot of trouble around according to them. They did a crime report. They were jolly chaps, one very handsome one, I did notice. I was amused when the one filling in the form asked my brother for his mobile phone number as a contact detail. They were amusing and yet sensitive. Although all through my brother’s mini statement I was thinking about the Psychology behind eye witness testimony and the fallibility of the human memory. Take for example my brother describing the clothing they were wearing. His memory might have constructed that out of stereotypical views of the common chav. Not that I am calling him a liar at all. It’s just sometimes that happens and our memory reconstructs what happens. Probably not the best time to be thinking it. I believe my ego to be intellectualising the situation.
The police are coming back round tomorrow for the proper statement as it is very late now. I am dying to ring my brother’s phone and see if those filthy chavs answer it though. I shouldn’t though.
(FP: If you read this before mother has told you, don’t worry, he’s fine and don’t tell her I told you!)
