Sugar 'n Spice, and Everything Not So Nice

Here's a little war story that most people can relate to. There are three roles, the Joe Hawkins/Ina Murray type (for those that actually read a Richard Allen book, remember Knuckle Girls? It's the only one I liked out of six.), the "TARGET", and the spectator. For the most part, if you've been anyway scene related, you've probably been one of the three. There's also a hero type role, but there isn't one in this story.

A few years back, a friend and I went to a party. It was supposed to be a celebration of some sort for a friend. We were kicking back, socializing, drinking, etc. etc., you know, the stuff you usually do at a party. The notion was in the air that one of the skinhead girls at the party decided to become a "shot caller" and clean up the scene. My friend and I
knew something was up. You could just smell it in the air, a conspiracy was brewing. Finally, one of my skinhead "sisters" spilled the beans. She had asked the other girls if they should let me in on the brew ha-ha and eventually they did.  

Here goes the conspiracy: The Target was aimed towards a 15-year-old girl, new to the scene. She was there with her boyfriend, had no friends at the party, and had no one to talk to. I asked the Predators why they were going to jump her. Their reasoning was that they had asked her if she was a skinhead, and she replied, "Sometimes." I don't really know what her answer was suppose to mean. Someone had told me that she said some days she was a skinhead, other days she was a rude girl. It probably wasn't the wisest answer. I knew she was young and dumb and most importantly, just starting out in the scene. Hadn't we all started out some way? Low and behold, if you can't figure out what happened next, keep on reading. I'll explain in detail. If you do know and don't care, the story ends here.

Some time later, everyone was outside. The sharks started circling in on their prey. There were about 7 or 8 girls huddled around the Target. They started joking with her, talking and laughing, making her feel like she was part of the crew. Next thing you know, the "Regulators" (as I'll call these sharks for the rest of this story) started the bumping and nudging number. The Target still hadn't picked up on the hints and cues on what was about to happen to her. For a moment, you could see how happy and accepted she felt by the smile on her face. Next thing you know, that wonderful smile she had was literally kicked off her face as the boot party commenced. The Regulators started punching and kicking, and the Target fell to the ground. Along with the boot party shuffling, you could hear the Regulators making lite of the situation with their giggling and laughing, and remarks like, "Gimme her boots! I want her jacket! What size does she wear?!?!?" All you could hear from the Target were her cries and screams of "Why? Why? What did I do?" Finally, my boyfriend at the time, yelled out, "What the fuck?!?! Don't you think she's had enough?" The Regulators eventually stopped. But remember the Scene Queen/Shot Caller I had mentioned earlier, the one who wanted to clean up the scene? She had to top off the evening's ultra-violence by booting the Target in the head like it was a soccer ball (or what some of you might want to call a Football, bleh!). You could hear AND feel the thud. It was pretty ugly. Some of you might be wondering how ugly? It was so ugly you could feel it down to the pit of your stomach. It made you look the other way and groan.

The grand finale to this little "We'll teach you!" lesson was the official skinhead girl hair cut. (By the way, I don't mean the ridiculous "shaving in" ritual.) My friend and I thought the humiliation was done and over with. But alas, it wasn't. The Target was in the car with her boyfriend, ready to drive to the emergency room. But Shot Caller had to put in the last word. She had to add a little more salt to the wound. She told the Target to get out of the car. Terrified, the Target stupidly complied. Shot Caller and a couple of her cronies gave her a few parting words along with the quick haircut. As Shot Caller was cutting off her bangs and the little front fringe she had, she told her, "If you're gonna do it right, this is how we all started. Stay out of the scene if you can't decide." Yeah, right! Like this "Scene Queen" or any of her other groupies ever got the fuck beat out of them to be accepted into "the scene." I can guarantee that a few years, or I should probably say a few months back, they all were at Target status.

The Target's face was fucked! Lumps here and there, and I mean lumps the size of golf balls! Her face was split open by her eyebrow, lips, and nose. Stitches weren't even the beginning. Permanent scarring, both mentally and physically were obvious. Makes me wonder what story she would to tell mom when she got home.

End of war story.

Later on down the line, Shot Caller had the nerve to ask her minions why I didn't join in. Well, my first reason was, if I tried to stop it, chances were the boot party would've turned on me and I really didn't want that. I could have forewarned the Target and told her to run and literally save face. The thought had crossed my mind, but I didn't.

You might have wondered where her boyfriend was during this event. Despite the fact that he was probably 5'7", and a hundred pounds at the most, he did try to help his girl. All of the Regulators' boyfriends were there too and made sure to threaten him enough, so that he could do nothing. They made it quite clear that if he stepped in, his number would be up next for a beating. Now I know some of you fellas out there are like, "Fuck that!" Your girl is your girl, and you wouldn't let anything in the world happen to her or at least do everything in your power to prevent it. However, it's different when you're
a skinny, 15-year-old boy going up against eight drunk men!

I felt pretty disgusted after viewing this so-called scene clean up, especially when so many people are bitching about unity this and unity that! If that's their view of United and Strong, no thanks, I'll pass. But then again, I have no room for opinion here. I felt some shame for not having said anything or done anything to help the Target. Those that heard about this little incident afterward had to give their two cents worth of course. The most ridiculous comment I heard was one idiot saying she deserved it. He knew the Target and her boyfriend. I asked him why? He couldn't come up with a reason. Another guy that heard about it mentioned that they should have shown her the way instead of beating the living shit out of her. All this babbling about unity and making the scene strong. What a bunch of hypocrites! To this day, I still hear girls bitch, and do nothing positive
to support the scene, guys too. They're usually too busy gossiping about each other, pointing out who's cuffs are too big, which football club is better, blah blah blah....... Instead of teaching the Target about the scene, they beat the shit out of her because she didn't know any better.

We know there are other Targets out there, boys and girls, just as there are many regulators and shot callers. Later on down the line, hopefully a Target doesn't get all stupid and make the other shoe fit. They figure, hey! I put my time in (summer vacation's over), now it's my turn to call some shots and show the Old Schoolers, prove themselves somehow. This is just one of those "bad" times that go along with the good. One of those moments that we can all some how relate.

Big Sister