It was his own fault. All those years of fantasising about being a skinhead and now James (now Jimbo) is one.
With the anonymity of fake profiles on different websites, Jimbo thought he was ‘safe online’. He would download pictures of skinheads from the internet. Later he’d write short stories and use the pictures as illustrations and then post them online. Or he would see a picture already posted, which would inspire a reblog with accompanying text.
Thinking no one would discover his real identify, Jimbo would be open chat with as many skinheads as possible initially on Tumblr and then on chat services like Kik or Hangouts.
During these chats he’d talk about his interests, his desire to become a skinhead, the ‘gear’ he owned, and sometimes the little bit of experience he’d had playing with or meeting other gear-heads. Jimbo also revealed some of his deepest desires to a couple of the people he’d chat with most often. These guys would often suggest meeting, at which point he’d make his excuses and end the chat - sometimes resorting to blocking the writer if things became a little too ‘close for comfort’. Reassured by the knowledge that he had faked his location, anonymised his identity, and if things became too much he could easily delete his profile and continue with his boring office worker life.
Unfortunately for Jimbo one of the skinheads he chatted with had different ideas. Mal knew the lad would never become a skinhead without intervention. so he decided to ‘grant the lad’s wishes’. The long-time skinhead, who never divulged his name, but spent many hours chatting with Jimbo, and getting the lad to be confident enough to share pictures with him privately (and sharing his own pictures in return), any of which might just give a clue to the lad’s real location.
Jimbo warmed to the skinhead, and had probably become a little complacent in their chats. When Mal divulged his location was Sweden, And as if to reaffirm this shared a few pictures showing him in Sweden. (Little did the lad know they were taken on a recent holiday). Jimbo thought it was safe to say where he really lived, after all, it would be highly unlikely that he’d travel from Sweden to his town. The lad also shared some pictures of him in places he frequented locally, including one outside where he worked. Although he’d done his best to ‘crop’ the pictures there was enough for the skinhead to work out the locations. The skinhead (who didn’t live in Sweden) hatched his plan.
The moment came at the end of the work-week. The lad had told Mal he offline on Friday because Fridays at the end of the month was a ‘Payday Piss-Up’. Everyone where he worked would go out, the boss would put a few hundred quid (pounds) behind the bar so they could wind-down after work on the company tab.
The pub the company uses happens to be an old ‘inn’, so it has rooms where you can stay the night. Mal checked into his room, spent half an hour getting things ready and went back downstairs. He found a quiet corner of the pub where he wouldn’t readily be noticed. He was watching people coming and going, and then the lad appeared surrounded by work colleagues. He slowly drank his beer, whilst watching the lad (and his colleagues) getting worse for wear.
The moment came when the lads colleagues started to disperse and he was left alone at the bar. Mal walked up to the lad, and said “Let me buy you a pint. I’m Mal”. Jimbo looked up. Standing next to him he saw a skinhead, with green MA1 jacket, the tightest bleachers, what looked like 20-hole ranger boots and white socks. Jimbo was taken back by skinhead’s generosity. Little did he know who the skinhead actually was, James...,my name is James, nice to meet you.” (his speech was somewhat slurred).
Believing their meeting was just a coincidence, Jimbo accepted the offer, “Yes, sure”. Mal got the drinks in and they got into a conversation about football, work, interests and of course skinheads. Mal kept buying Jimbo drinks but would duck out of getting himself one. Eventually, Mal had the lad where he wanted him.
“I’m not sure you’re in a fit state to go home, I’ve got a room upstairs that you can crash in”. With that Mal hoisted the lad over his shoulder and carried him to his room. Back upstairs he sat the lad down in a chair that he’d placed in the middle of the room. He strapped Jimbo to the chair to ensure he was full restrained.
Mal picked up the clippers and said, “I’m going to make your dreams come true”, and with that he turned on the clippers. Over the next two hours Mal transformed James into Jimbo. First using the clippers and then wet-shaving his head. Mal went over to the corner of the room where there was a big bag. He pulled out a number of items: a box, a pair of bleachers, a white vest, white socks. “Right lad, let’s get you into some proper gear”. Mal was ready for Jimbo to fight him, but the truth was this is what James really wanted. The only way it would happen is if a big hard skinhead changed him, and made him a skinhead. So, as drunk as he was, he fully cooperated as Mal dressed him. The best part was Mal teaching him how to ladder lace his boots. (How would he ever remember what to do). Mal looked at his creation, satisfied with what he saw he turned the lights out.
[Next morning, outside the pub]
Jimbo had his head in his hands in the full realisation that his life was changed now, and had a sick feeling about how he was going to explain his new look
“Right lad, my work here is done. Don’t be ashamed. You’re a skinhead now. It’s what you’ve always wanted to be”. With that Jimbo watched Mal walk off down the road
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