Oh, hello, my friend. How are you doing? It's very nice to tell you this story; Frequent Bond is the story you are about to read; make sure you are comfortable watching it unfold as we go.
Outside a nightclub, different cultured people are queuing to get in, all dressed in their best attire. Two crowd controllers are at two double glass doors; one is for entry, and the other is for exiting the nightclub. They are checking ids at the entrance of the club. Dustin is in line with two of his pals talking about the movie Bridge Street, Sf et, they saw yesterday at the local cinema. A bus drives past with different tones of skinned people going through their life journeys. Two taxis pull up with people that have come out to enjoy a night at this club. Two young women are in front of the bouncers, and they are checking if the women are over the legal drinking age. One has glistening long blonde hair, wearing a dark red pencil dress with blue high heels and a small blue handbag over her shoulder. The other woman has shiny long brunette hair, wearing a light blue pencil dress, red high heels, with a small red carry handbag. They must use a good hair conditioner. The bouncers each have a camera attached to the middle of their jackets; they have fluorescent straps around their left arms, with a see-through pouch that contains their security badges. They pass back to the females their ID cards.
Both ladies say, “Thank you.”
The African-American bouncer says, “Enjoy your night, ladies.”
The two ladies walk in to start their night of drinking and dancing, making the line move forward. Two couples in a group together in front of Dustin are getting their cards checked. It is a lovely relaxed evening, people are walking around on the street, and some are slightly intoxicated.
The exit door from the nightclub swings open, and a young couple is in dispute. The guy has a tight hold of her arm, dragging her to a nearby wall. Dustin looks on, getting fidgety. The young guy pushes the lady, that is wearing a white flowery dress, to the wall after he starts laying into her. The guy is shouting at her while waving his finger in her face after he punches her in the mouth. Everybody carries on with their business.
Dustin looks around to see if anyone will step in, and he starts muttering. “Are you kidding me? Are not one of you going to do anything? Okay, it’s fine.”
Dustin walks over to him while shouting, “The fuck are you playing at?”
The guy is wearing stonewashed jeans with a white shirt. He responds, “This has nothing to do with you, fam.”
Dustin is in range; both of the guy's hands are on the wall on either side of the young crying woman. Dustin’s open hand connected with the boy's cheek. The guy stumbles sideways.
Dustin says in a raised voice. “No, fucking no, you don’t hit women!”
The boy holds his cheek as he asks. “Did you just slap me?”
Dustin nods with a grin. “You deserved it bitch boy.”
Conversations are now hushed from the queuing people as they start taking notice. The crowd controllers begin to walk over, and while the lad steps forward, he jabs Dustin in his mouth, which makes Dustin smile; after slipping the lads backhand, Dustin hooks him in the kidney, dropping the man, I mean boy, to the pavement, he begins whining in pain. The bouncers eventually get in the way to break it up.
Dustin says while looking at him on the ground. “You will think of me later.”
The African-American bouncer says to Dustin, “Respect for that brother, but you have to go because I’ll have to report this.”
He offers his hand, and Dustin shakes his hand with a click at the end.
The same bouncer says, “Also, it would be a wise man to stay out of town tonight; the old bill might collar you otherwise.”
Dustin nods in response while telling his pals that he will see them later. He walks away towards the bus stop, which doubles as a taxi rank. He steps over the boy on the ground, seeing the other English bouncer tending to the young lady dabbing her lip with a tissue.
Dustin walks past a couple of people waiting for their buses to arrive. A bank is opposite the bus stop, and groups of joyful people dressed up for their evening out in the town to get highly intoxicated. Dustin walks past a homeless person sitting in a doorway of a clothes shop, dropping a couple of quid into a branded coffee cup, rattling with some other coins. Dustin walks over to a parked saloon silver taxi at the front of the taxi rank. The Indian taxi driver speaks his native language to someone on his phone and notices him. He hangs up, puts his phone back into its holder, and then presses the button that makes the window slide down. Dustin tells him his address.
The Indian taxi driver says, “Get in, brother.”
Which Dustin does, not forgetting to put the seatbelt on.
The taxi arrives at his address. Dustin is in the back seat; the black box in red is £9.20. Dustin is getting money out of his black wallet.
The taxi driver says. “You should visit India; it is a nice country; also, the food and the countryside are incredible.”
Dustin passed a ten-pound note while responding, “I would love to; I’m sure I will at some point in my life. Keep the change, brother.”
The taxi driver responds, saying, “Thank you, my friend.”
Dustin replies, “I hope you get more money tonight, pal.”
Dustin gets out of the taxi, shutting the door behind him. He walks around to a wooden gate outside of his home. The taxi driver is writing something down in a black book. It is most probably his fare for the evening.
Dustin is in his home with the back door open. Dustin is standing smoking a cigarette. Heavy footsteps come down the stairs as smoke exhales from Dustin’s mouth. An old white mattress is behind him, leaning against blue shed doors. Andrew walks around the corner into the kitchen.
Andrew asks, “Hello, bro, you’re home early. What happened to your lip?”
They smack their hands together after fist-bumping. Dustin explains what happened while Andrew gets the blue-capped milk from the fridge, pouring them into two glasses.
Andrew responds, “You should put your fighting abilities to appropriate use.”
Dustin takes the cup of milk his younger brother offers him while saying, “I should, bro. I am going to stop smoking tomorrow as I only have one left. I’m going to start working out tomorrow. You should join me as you could lose some weight.”
“Charming,” replies Andrew with a smirk as he puts the milk back on the fridge, grabbing himself a sausage roll, a little nighttime snack.
Dustin responds, “I am not trying to charm you. I am your brother; I will always tell you the truth.”
Andrew responds, “Good. Anyway, I am going to bed. I will see you in the morning.”
Dustin asks, “Yeah, I will see you in the morning. Get some rest. Before you go, have we still got that football?”
Andrew leaves the kitchen to return to bed while responding, “Yes, bro, it is in the back garden. Goodnight.”
Dustin stays in the kitchen, smoking and drinking his cup of milk.
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