Here come the hoodies...

When I was 15 years old and fancied a Barcardi Breezer, or the modern equivilant of a slug of cheap white spirit, I'd usually hide somewhere - I wouldn't stand at a bus stop with twenty of my closest Chav friends, urinating in public and throwing up over someone's front fence.

I probably wouldn't drink openly and threaten to bash my younger 9 year old brother if he didn't hand over another ciggie. Nor would I intimidate an innocent Australian ex-pat as he nervously crossed the road to avoid two young girls fighting in the middle of the footpath.

Just as I crossed the road a police car slowed down in front of the group....they gave the coppers a send off as the bus turned up. They threw away their empties and got on.....everyone else got off.