When I was young I always through I was born to do something greater than average life. But it wasn’t until I was fired from my first job in Ukrainian power plant, for pressing wrong button I decided to follow my dream. I needed to think and plan so – like every normal guy – I decided to have a few drinks first. After two days drinking my plan to start fresh in a new location was complete but now it was impossible. I’d spent all my money on alcohol!
The closest town was about 25 miles away but without any money, the only way to get there was to stowaway under a lorry I saw. It must have been owned by a guy called Eddie because his name was on the side. I climbed under it and found comfortable space, thankfully, because I was still drunk I fell sleep after 5 min. Sometime later I was woken by the owner of truck (who’s name wasn’t Eddie) kicking at me and shouting in a language I couldn’t understand. I ran away from crazy ‘not Eddie’ but as I was running I thought ‘something is wrong, people look different, buildings look different. something is wrong!’ I stopped running, not because I had outrun ‘not Eddie’ but because I smoke two packs a day!
All the running had me really hungry so, when saw strange looking people on the street carry something that looked like a food I went straight to source. Something called ’Fish and chips’. The sign above door was strange, like one of those new western food places they’re opening all over the place in Poland. Just like the one I visited not long ago called ‘Mackdonaldski’ – really good burgers!
After a little small talk with a polish guy who worked there I realised the terrible truth. I had spent more time asleep under the lorry than I planned but, there was some good news! I found out I was in Great Britain and, according to my new polish friend, it’s capital city. A placed called Bromsgrove! I reached into my back pocket to check and found my passport there. ’Everything is gonna be ok, I got my passport, I’m saved’ Strangely, I couldn’t find the airport in Bromsgrove so I asked a homeless guy who smelt horrible. It was probably his dreadlocks.
He tried to speak to me, I think he offered me some of his ‘Margarita’. It tasted terrible and made me sleepy. I woke up in a basement. Smelly dreadlocks guy come back and told me from tomorrow I need to start tattooing for him or I will always be lock down here in basement and never see my family and friends. That was four years ago. So guys if you wanna help me to see my family and friends and help me to go back home pls book tattoo whit me so I can pay Paul off and hopefully he give me my passport back.