Speis

Emergency workers in Ireland are to be issued with stab-proof vests because ambulance workers and firefighters are reguarly being attacked while doing their jobs.

'one Dublin fire-fighter needed 35 stitches in his face after being struck with a bottle'

I wonder about that:

I've just been smashed in the head with a bottle.
Here, let me get you a protective vest.
Didn't you hear me, spanner, it's my head.

But really, what's the mentality behind attacking people who put out fires and transport the seriously ill? How socially retarded do you have to be to see lifesavers as targets?

And why don't the Gardaí need protection? They must get even more hassle.

I've lived in Dublin over a year now and I'd never seen people fighting outside of homes or concerts. I was going to a comedy show in Vicar Street and my friends hadn't turned up yet. I had 10 minutes to wait but I didn't mind because I had a book. A steady crowd of people were shuffling along the pavement towards the venue. The sun was out and the evening was still and muggy. I was looking for a place to sit down and read without being disturbed. I saw a bus shelter. I walked up to the shelter, thinking how great it is that you can just sit down on the bench and pretend you're waiting for a bus and no one hassles you. It was one of those fancy double shelters, with tv screens that tell you how late your bus is. Though really it's just two normal shelters shoved together. This one was a bit grotty. There were no buses due for 10 minutes. so I figured I'd have some calm while I waited. I took out my book and read. Soon I became aware of someone singing in the other side of the shelter. He (she, whoever it was)roared out the lyrics to some singalong classic that I can't remember, without any embarassment or consideration. I didn't look up, there's no point in encouraging people. Plus, it didn't really bother me. Displays of public singing, nudity or affection don't really bother me. After a minute I realised someone was tapping my foot with their own. (I should probably explain at this point that I'm a really heavy reader, when I get into a book or a paper I go into a kind of trance where I'm not really aware of what's going on around me. One time, in primary school, I came out of a reading daze to see that all my classmates were looking at me with interest while my teacher roared at me to pay attention. Like I said, I a reader.). Someone was trying to get my attention. The other person was still singing. I looked up, first at the singer, who I could see now was a young man, red rings around his eyes, short black hair, tracksuit top. He was with his girlfriend. She was sitting on the bench. He was straddling her, singing and moving back and forth, with the carefree exhuberance of a man who has found something other than his hand to masturbate with. The guy getting my attention was also young, with longer, darker hair and a navy tracksuit top. He might have been holding a can, I'm sketching on this detail for some reason. He was looking at me, smiling craftily and indicating the couple beside us. I wasn't really taking things in at this point but I quickly realised what a volatile situation I was in. Were these guys friends? Was I being invited to laugh along at a shared joke, one bloke cheerily poking fun at his mate and his bird? Or were we all just strangers, each of us a bit out of it on our stimulant of choice, and I was being invited by one, who could have been a psycho, to laugh at another who could have been a nutter. Which, as it happened, he was. I made a half smile, hoping that it would sate the guy in front of me, and not attract the attention of the singer. It didn't work. He was already getting to his feet. He was young and ropy, smaller than the laugher.
"Are you laughing at me?"
This is never a good start to a conversation.
"Do you think I'm funny?"
Oh shit oh shit we're entering Joe Pesci in Goodfellas territory now.
Laugher puts up his hands and drops his smile.
'No no, I wasn't laughing at you.'
Singer turns around, pleased himself and probably keen to get back to his girlfriend. He looks down at me.
"Are you laughin at me?"
I try to empty all emotion from my face and any shred of challenge from my voice.
No.
My voice is surprisingly still. He seems satisfied by this.
Then he comes back to make sure about Laugher, who is backing away against the wall.
'No I didn't mean it, here take all my money just don't hurt me.'
The singer doesn't like this and his hands come up, there's a thump and a splat. I'm not sure what happened, I was staring down at my boots, reading but not taking it in, wondering if I was the subject of some extravagant joke. People don't just smack each other for something this stupid, right?
Laugher is singing to himself, quietly. Singer turns away and Laugher starts up again.
'Oh please don't hurt me, I'll give you all me money-'
He advances on the singer and his girl. I think of Gollum at this moment.
'-I'll even suck your cock.'
Singer comes back at him. He definitely gets him in the dead centre of his face this time. I furiously read my book. Singer sits back down, as if this was all normal. I slip my book into my bag, waiting for my chance.
Laugher is holding a hand to his face and looking at me.
'Why didn't you do anything? You just let him hit me. What's wrong with you?'
I stay silent. Anything to avoid the notice of Rocky over there. And what was I going to do? One bloke mocks another and gets a thump. He shouldn't have piped up and the other guy shouldn't have smacked him.
It's very easy to say that now.
I saw a gap and ducked out the back of the shelter and walked quickly away. It was no more than a minute. My friends arrived soon after. I threw one glance back at the shelter, I couldn't see inside but I thought I saw a flash of white and blue tracksuits at the edges.
But that wouldn't have made any sense.