Way back when...

In my youth I used to spend my Friday nights driving around Edinburgh in an orange Vauxhall Astra with a few good friends. Much dope was smoked, much acid was swallowed and much hi-jinks was gotten up to.

Our usual haunts were places like the picturesque South Queensferry in the shadow of the Forth bridge, Musselburgh Harbour (which was a few hundred yards from where my girlfriend lived) and Calton Hill. These three places became something of a home for me for a few years. Many a weekend was spent either stoned, steaming drunk or off my tits on LSD.

On one particular night, after we had driven around the road that winds its way around Arthurs Seat to pass some time, we noticed several fire engines and a couple of police cars sitting at the foot of the Salisbury Crags. Being the curious type we drove along to see what the fuss was.

As we approached the bottom of the crags I looked up to see several firemen attempting to reach someone who was standing on the cliff. "It's a jumper!" I yelled to my mate, who immediately threw the car around and headed to the bottom of Calton Hill.

It was with a squeal of rubber and smoking tyres that we handbrake skidded to a halt next to a group of cars occupied by friends. Before the car had even stopped sliding I was halfway out of the window screaming at the drivers to follow us. After shouting that there was someone going to top themselves by hurling themselves off the crags a troop of car engines sprung to life and at least a dozen cars followed us to the crags.

We must have looked like quite a sight to the pedestrians we passed on the way. Twelve to fifteen cars filled to the brim with stoners, acid freaks and pissheads screamed along Regents Road at way over the speed limit must have been quite a thing to behold.

In the time it took for us to drive to Calton Hill and back the firemen had managed to get within a few feet of the jumper and were in the middle of talking him down. As the road had been shut off to allow the firemen access to the crags our troop of cars pulled up onto the pavements and we all poured out to watch the show.

Joints were being smoked and bottles were being passed around amongst the crowd and people were chatting idly about how the firemen and police were dealing with the situation. Everyone seemed to have an opinion on the specialised training the emergency services were given to deal with occasions such as this, and to a man all were voiced.

The only voice that didn't give a flying fuck about the specialised training the emergency services received was, surprise surprise, mine. I took a deep breath and yelled as loud as I possibly could... "JUMP YA PRICK!"

This got a quite a laugh from the group of people that were watching the spectacle and I continued. "TRY AND TAKE A COUPLE OF THOSE BASTARDS WITH YOU!" I yelled. More laughter erupted from the crowd and a few of the group joined in. Meanwhile the potential jumpee had been convinced by the emergency services that it wasn't worth it and were in the process of helping him down the hill.

I often wondered what was going through the guys mind as he was helped into the back of an ambulance to yells and screams of "POOF!" - "FUCKING CHICKEN!" - "JESSIE!" and my personal favourite... "I HOPE SOMEONE KILLS YOU IN THE JAIL YA COWARDLY CUNT!"

Which, of course, issued from my very own lips.