Bloods and Crisps

There a strong Gang Culture in Blandmore, believe it or not, with young folk gallivanting around brandishing knives, guns and all kinds. So we keep being told in our morning meetings, but I didn't really believe it until this week.

A robbery had just taken place in Upper Blandmore (otherwise known as the Porle estate), with a description of some offenders. I duly stop a guy who matches the description. He's a young black guy, and he's wearing the rather distinctive floral red bandanna described by our victim. After a minute of talking to him, I'm convinced that he has absolutely nothing to do with the robbery. In fact, I think he might be on the way to an oboe lesson. The clue is the oboe in a case across his back.

Before giving him his stop-check form and apologising for making him even later by filling it in, I ask him about the bandanna.

"It's for the Bloods, yeah."

It's not my finest hour, as I have no idea what he's talking about. "Bloods? What because it camouflages?"

"You know, the Bloods." He's loving my complete ignorance. "It's a big gang in LA, you know."

"And you're in that gang?"

"Yeah we're the Blandmore Bloods."

I realise at this point that it isn't just me who has no idea what a "real" gang is.

The kid goes on, touching a gold stud in the back of his baseball cap. "It's our uniform, yeah. The bandanna for the Bloods, and this - this stud's for the Crisps."

"The...?"

"The Crisps. Bloods AND Crisps. That way no one can touch us."

"That makes you feel safe, then?"

"Too right, it's scary out here if you're not in a gang."

"I see. You know... I think it's the Crips, not Crisps."

His jaw drops. "Huh?"

"Never mind." I give him his form and he wanders off happily to his oboe lesson.

I do wish more gang members were like that. If they were, we might have more nights like this, and less like this.

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