Where the shirtless teenage boys are

Upon arriving home tonight – about 11pm – I noticed a commotion coming across the road from my house and witnessed a somewhat startling and unsteadying sight.

Before I go on, I should probably say that I live across the road from a primary school (yes, of course I’m allowed to, those allegations were never proven) and that it’s currently half term – I know that because I work in a cinema and The LEGO Movie is pretty dern popular with the young ‘uns these days – so I didn’t really expect to see anyone at the school, especially at that time.

You see where I’m going with this.

Upon taking out an earphone to properly hear the strangled jeers and laughs from across the way, I looked to see around five or six giddy teenagers running along the school’s playground. I couldn’t really tell if they were running away from or toward something, but they didn’t seem especially scared or troublesome so I figure there was nothing untoward occurring.

Then I saw that one of the boys was in his underpants.

Yep: naked but for briefs and trainers, the kid seemed to somehow be enjoying a midnight run in February for some unknown reason. His friends/potential torturers were loving it, and as whatever hazing ritual/cult initiation ceremony they were having came to an end and they started to walk out of the playground – and towards me! – I decided that now was about the right time to turn the key I’d had in my front door for the past three minutes and leave the laughably harmless madness that comes with living in a city where the biggest crimes are bicycle thefts.

And here I am in bed, blogging about it because I felt guilty about not having written anything here in February and I thought maybe I could wring a few laughs from my bemusement.

Yeah. These are the things that keep me awake at night.

I didn’t mean it like that, you monsters.

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