Experiences That Shake You To The Core, And Make You Question The Society We Live In

Experiences that shake you to the core, and make you question the Society we live inThe photo does not depict anything that is contained or related to this article, instead, it’s from my favourite club in Sydney, Australia. Taken in 2011.

Last night, walking home through the busy streets of shoreditch, after one too many drinks, I witnessed something that shook me to my core. I still don’t have words for it.

I’ve woken up, the morning afterwards, with a fuzzy head and a weird feeling deep inside. I am certain it’s not just the alcohol from last night speaking there.

So, dear reader, what is it that has me shaken so much? What on earth could make a man feel amiss? What is it that makes them question the very society they live in?

Well, I’m glad you asked. It begins with a good night out, making new acquaintances and friends. Several beers later, and the bar is closing and it’s time to go. Last night was in Camden. Busy, busy Camden, with all it’s venues and party-goers.

There’s only really two options to get back home from Camden at this hour: a bus to shoreditch then back up to Dalston, or a cab straight the way across.

I opted for the bus, hindsight says maybe I should’ve just spent my pennies and gone with a cab. Hindsight is a bitch anyway, so I’m not listening. So I catch the bus down to Shoreditch, the 214, it drops me off at Old Street Station, now I need to find another bus to take me back north. Best to walk to Kingsland road, it’ll be busiest.

Pondering my way through the quieter backstreets, I make it into hoxton square. The clubs are still going, but the night is coming to a close. Walking down past Byron Burger and Trafik, I see a man slumped up against the wall of Mother 333 / The Apprentice.

This man, he’s probably just had a few too many drinks. We’ve all been there, I’m sure. So I decide to check on him, because that’s what I’d want if someone came across me like that. I check verbally at first:

“Hey, mate, are you okay?”

My words ring out to no reply. He just sits there, head down, shoulder again the wall. Not even a movement. People just walk on past, oblivious to the guy lying in the street, maybe it’s just a regular sight for them?

Reaching out I shake his shoulder, and repeat “hey, mate, are you okay” absolutely no response. It’s a freezing cold night, and he’s out colder than the air around us both.

He certainly needs some help. I walk to the queue just a few meters down the street at 333 Mother Bar, and call a bouncer across, as I’m a little unsure of what to do. The conversation goes something like: “hey, there’s a man slumped against the side of your building, out cold, totally non-responsive. I think he needs help” the reply is:

“not my problem”

At this point, I can’t fucking believe it. There’s a guy slumped against your fucking building, and it’s not your problem? Yeah, sure, you’ve got a club to run, great, but what the hell?

I’m annoyed to say the least. I ask to borrow a phone, as mines completely dead, the battery expired ages ago. The bouncers response?

“Go away, I’m busy.”

Walking back towards the passed out guy, still certain that he needs some help, and I’m a little distressed right now, I don’t know what to do. I turn to some people walking past: “hey, excuse me, I think this guy needs some help”, the reply? “Nah man, he’s just passed out”

What happened next truly shocked me, as I began to ask if I could borrow a phone to call him an ambulance or something, because like fuck am I going to just leave a guy passed out in the street on a freezing cold night, one of the guys that was walking past suggests they take photos.

A guy you don’t know is passed out cold, in the street, and you want to take a fucking photo to stick on your fucking vain Instagram?

I’m furious, what the hell? A guy you don’t know is passed out cold, in the street, and you want to take a fucking photo to stick on your fucking vain Instagram? You’ve gotta be kidding me. So I intervene, I turn to the guy, and confront him: “what the hell man, don’t take a photo! Would you like someone to take your photo like this?”, he laughs and brushes of my confrontation with “yeah man”.

I can’t believe it. He follows that up with “if you’re really concerned about him, you should call an ambulance or something”, I flash my dead phone at him, and explain I’m out of charge, asking “can I borrow your phone to do that?”, he laughs again “no way man”, and goes back to fooling around with his mates.

I look around, scouting for more help. I see a police can stuck at traffic, and run across to it, waving at the driver through his window. The driver winds the window down, and I explain the situation to him. He accepts this, and dispatches some officers from the back of his van to help.

They ask me to show them the man, and I lead them back to the place on the street where he lays, by this point I’m certain the dudebros have taken many pictures and poses with him.

The police try to get a response from the man, and he just sits there. I ask the officers if I should leave him with them, they reply “yes, we’ll sort this out”.

Thank fuck for that.

With that, I walk away from the scene, still trying to understand what I’ve witnessed tonight. Later on, I end up knocking on the door of a friends bar, and break down in her sight, my emotions just streaming out.

Since then, I’ve followed up with the police, via their 101 non-emergency number. They’ve informed me that the incident was most likely treated as a medical incident, and the man would’ve been taken to hospital, and the case closed. They couldn’t provide me with any further details.

So, there you have it, here is how a good night turns to absolutely madness, confusion and shock. I can’t re-read these words, I just have to get them out, so this has been published with no further editing.

Please forgive me dear reader, for I hope you will understand.