Riding With Hong Kong Street Racers
I saw Candy and Fai, there was a new crowd hanging out. People I never seen before. They looked happy, one guy was sitting there reading a car racing mag on the blue chair. Two were talking to Fai, their cars parked outside. Not very modified yet. No doubt they are on the way to do so. Candy standing on the side, looking on. Fai looks happy. In the middle of two new fans and admirers, hanging on every word.
I thought I would wave, but not cross the road, as the conversation will go, “Have you not eaten?” because I am holding a rice box. “You shouldn’t eat that crap. It’s late.” I will nod and go, “Yes, I am busy. I have to go.” Candy might make a comment about my weight. How fat I am, or how I lost some, or that I have “kept” it, and she is real impressed. Like I care what she thinks. She might look at me in the way she sometimes does, as if I betrayed her, because I keep my distance now. But I don’t think they saw me, or they purposely didn’t see me.
It all makes so much more sense now. How once, they told me they have no old friends left. That the whole group split up. When Fai got together with Candy, all their friends dropped them. It was set up like his ex-girlfriend got upset they gotten together and her ex-boyfriend felt angry at it. I have it on tape. I should look at it.
I think it’s probably she finally pissed everyone off, and they didn’t want anything to do with them anymore. She bad mouthed the wrong person, and they didn’t call Fai out because they didn’t want to deal with her.
Or maybe it’s just the way. In the last year, I can think of about four groups forming around and then dissipating. People pop in and it would be great for a week, maybe a month. “Old friend” who they hadn’t seen for a while, or “New friend” they just met. We would all hang for a while, and then one day, I would not see them again. Busy is on truth, exhausted from not really enjoying their company another.
Once, they were working on the fuel injector really late at night. The noise was tremendous. Cops turned up. Candy pulled me aside and said, “I know that one on the left. We used to hang out.” I was like, “Why don’t you say “Hi” after he’s done checking the ID cards?” She replied, “No, No, it’s too complicated. I don’t even know if he remembers me.”
I just put it down to, him becoming a cop and all. But I don’t think so now.
Yan Sham-Shackleton Online 