Stay off the tranny-booze
A few summers ago I ended up at this fate they stage in Regents Park for the benefit of the hippy element hipster types of North London to do a spot of corporate sponsored tree hugging with lashings of clandestine consumerism thrown in for good measure. Not usually my cup of tea, reviewing a load of sanitary products made out of coconut fibre and the like, but it was a sunny day, I’d heard they sold booze, and they had demonstrations of ferret racing running at quarter hour intervals throughout the afternoon. That pretty much had me sold.

So, off to Regents Park I went with a mate of mine named Mark and his little boy, Stan. Nice little kid. Stupid fucking name, but a nice quiet well behaved little boy. The three of us get up there. After a bit of pissing about outside we manage to get in (the fucking place had security, for fucks sake – I know all this organic bollocks is expensive, but that really did take the piss). Anyway, we’re in - Stan’s happy playing about with the other little nippers, his ragged mop of blonde hair shaking about as he ran round in circles and amused himself. Mark and I, keeping a watchful eye over the boy, are happy to discover a stall that sells pimms. By the pint. Now, the thing with pimms is that it tastes a bit like liquidised strawberry jelly. It’s really rather nice. And the other thing about pimms is that it gets you absolutely wankered in less time than it takes a your average lib dem leader to sell their soul to the dark side. A swift two pints later and Mark and I are feeling the fruity effects of this wonderful, exotic falling down water.

“Jeeezzzeee, I’m actually pretty damn wasted,” says Mark. I concur and we decide its best to walk the tranny-booze off and stick to something less likely to fuck us up. Me – beer (the joys of not having a sprog). And Mark – coke (on account of having his trouser artillery make a direct hit on an unsuspecting egg five years previously).

Mark reaches out and grabs Stan’s hand and were off, walking at a fairly brisk pace round the perimeter stalls, trying to concentrate on not being as pissed as we felt and feeling like a couple of utter fucking lightweights.

Several minutes pass. Mark asks Stan, still clamped tightly hold of his hand: “D’you want anythin’ to eat, son?” - Silence- Mark asks again. Still the silence. Mark and I stop, turn as one and see, at the other end of Mark’s arm, held in Mark’s vice-like grip...

... a little black kid, looking back up at us with wide scared-to-shit eyes. This definitely wasn’t blonde haired, blue eyed Stan. Not by any stretch.

Fuck. We’d, or actually Mark (that’s what I’d tell the fucking rozzers), had abducted a child.

With fluttering arseholes we set off back to our starting point, finding out the little black kids name on the way. Thankfully, we found his parents without too much delay and Stan was playing in the grass on his own, completely oblivious, nearby.

The kids mother looked so grateful, she thanked us both and I said: “Really stupid, I know – but we actually managed to take the wrong child.” And I sort of shrugged.

The lady asked, now a little suspicious and on full peado alert: “Oh, and where’s your boy.”

Mark waved Stan over. “Here he is,” he said.

The woman looked between her kid and ours. The two boys looked like a couple of extras from a Michael Jackson video; one very very black, one very very white. Taking her own boys’ hand she turned and marched away: “They could’ve been separated at birth,” she said, and stalked off muttering and shaking her head.

Both Mark and I reverted to Coke after that.

And we managed to get back to Mark’s place later without swapping Stan, inadvertently, for a kid of any other race or sex along the way. A pretty fucking impressive feat, I’d say.
( SpankyHanky, Tue 1 Mar 2011, 3:34, 8 replies)

"tranny-booze"?
Good story, abysmal parenting.
( monster munch person, man, woman... camera... TV?, Tue 1 Mar 2011, 8:37, closed)

Good story Spanky, well told
Easily one of the better stories of the week. *click*
(bROKEN aRROW PUA HVI Master, Tue 1 Mar 2011, 9:15, closed)

Loving it.
With the amount of rubbish trolling ruining QOTW it is good to have this Spanky.
( Trollman, Tue 1 Mar 2011, 9:18, closed)

I might have to give this Pimms lark a try!
“They could’ve been separated at birth,” haha!
*click*
( SigmaX0 Dear Die Hard. You rock!, Tue 1 Mar 2011, 9:33, closed)

Ha!
It's easily done. Honest.
(SpangoTheWonderBadger is brewing beer, Tue 1 Mar 2011, 10:22, closed)

Best effort so far this week
*click*click*click*
( Light In Chains maker of the ikea sofa, Tue 1 Mar 2011, 12:17, closed)

I once did something similar, in a way.
I was somewhere with a lot of kids (I think it was Chuck E. Cheese or somewhere else that I'd prefer to forget) and my kids were running around being a bit wild, and I had had to speak to them a few times when they were getting out of control and being obnoxious.

I was aware of a presence next to me doing something irritating and turned to tell him to knock it off, then realized that it was some random black kid before I had spoken more than three syllables. He and his mother looked up at me in surprise, and I said "Sorry, for a moment there I thought he was one of my kids."

The woman gave me a very strange look and dragged her kid elsewhere.
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Tue 1 Mar 2011, 12:41, closed)

tranny-booze?

( janet aylia y'all motherfuckers need jesus, Tue 1 Mar 2011, 14:32, closed)