If you are listening to these words, chances are, you are watching a stream from your favourite influencer… or, perhaps, you clicked on a link that looked reasonably safe. ______________________ In any case. ______________________ What I am about to tell you is a true story. It comes from my personal life, not from my artist persona, and certainly not from my alter ego, Nine_Seven_Four. This is the story of how I saved a life — with the help of my family, of course. ______________________ This time, there will be no music… well, not exactly a song. Think of it as a spoken-word piece, a short narrative. Although, if it helps to hold your attention, I might slip in a very subtle backing track. For now, do try to keep up. ______________________ Albufeira, southern Portugal. Saturday, twelve September 2026, 9 thirty P M. A summer evening. My parents, my sister, and I had gone out for an ice cream. Albufeira is often described as the French Riviera of Portugal… albeit a rather budget version, aimed at less affluent British tourists. ______________________ That evening, we had taken the car. The car park sat above the lively district, up on the heights. A short walk brought us to two sets of outdoor escalators, linking the upper levels to the nightlife area… and to the beach. Rather amusing, really: descending what feels like a shopping-centre escalator just to go for a swim in the sea. ______________________ We went down, crossed the busy quarter, and found a gelato shop. Even then, we could see groups of men and women, clearly well advanced in their drinking. Often stag or hen parties, recognisable by their rather… distinctive outfits. And when one considers that the average British gentleman is not exactly renowned for sartorial excellence… you can imagine the spectacle. We reached the ice-cream parlour without incident, and enjoyed our rather generous portions. ______________________ After settling the bill, it was time to turn back towards the car. For the return journey, we took a narrow alleyway, lined with bars and clubs on both sides. Crowds, noise, queues spilling from club entrances, touts offering complimentary shots. One could almost lose one's way. We eventually made it through this rather chaotic little street. Time, then, to take the escalators back up. ______________________ If you are still with me, thank you. But do wait for what comes next. ______________________ At the foot of the first escalator, we found ourselves behind a group of four Englishmen. All in their fifties, broadly tall, and all unmistakably intoxicated. The one directly in front of me was, visibly, more affected than the others. My family and I stepped onto the escalator after them, observing, with some amusement, the effects of alcohol on their balance. We reached the top of that first escalator. On to the second. As we began ascending the second escalator, I remarked to my family, half in jest: "The chap in front is rather likely to fall flat on his face." I had kept a comfortable distance from this particular gentleman so as to avoid any interaction. ______________________ But… ______________________ The moment I turned my head, he was right against me, one step above, having completely lost his balance. I suddenly found myself supporting a rather large man, momentarily limp, with very little room to find a secure foothold and avoid collapsing under his weight. My sister, on instinct, shouted: "Let go! Drop him!" A course of action I would have gladly embraced… had my position allowed it. Below us, my mother was waiting at the base of the escalator. Releasing him would have meant he fell directly onto her. My father and my sister then took hold of the Englishman by the arms, hauling him upright, helping him regain some semblance of balance. I remained behind him, pressed against his back, one hand on the moving handrail to keep us both from toppling. In the course of his near-fall, he lost a shoe and his cap. He managed to slip his shoe back on just before the end of the escalator. Once at the top, my sister handed him back his hat. ______________________ A few passers-by congratulated us on the "rescue". His three companions, however, did not react in the slightest: they had their backs turned. When we explained that we had essentially carried him, they found this hilarious. One of them remarked: "We'll take care of him…" Yes, naturally. ______________________ Back in the car, I was still running on adrenaline. As we left the car park, about a hundred metres further on, we spotted our intoxicated Englishman once more, sprinting towards one of his friends — the only one who had actually waited for him. The other two were further ahead, but still gave us a friendly wave when they recognised us. Having had quite enough adventure for one evening, we returned to our accommodation… and slept very soundly. ______________________ For the record: this happened exactly as described. No embellishment. ______________________ Thank you for listening to the end. If you enjoyed this little tale, do leave a like, subscribe to the channel… it's always appreciated. On that note, I shall say: "Ciao!"
