Thursday, November 10, 2005

The Kebab Shop Fight.

A few years back, I needed a fairly major operation, and the night before I was due to go into hospital, I decided to go out for a 'last drink and supper' with my then partner in crime and some friends. Most of the pubs in the locale were packed and noisy due to a football match that was on Sky, but we found a quiet pub with seats that I hadn't been to so much before.
While we were chatting, a bloke came up (drunk) and asked me where I was from as he'd seen me somewhere but couldn't remember where from. This happens to me quite a bit, but I for the life of me couldn't place the drunk, and really didn't want to either. The last thing I wanted was some wankered tosser shouting in my ear when I was stressed and trying to have a nice, relaxing time.
After about twenty minutes or so, he got the hint that I didn't want to talk to him, and he slunk off to a darker corner of the pub leaving me and my friends in peace with our drinks.
The remainder of the night was good and involved laughing and wine, and by about 11.30pm I had almost forgotten to be worried about the next day.
I decided that I wanted a kebab (not normally my first choice of meal, but I reckoned as I was going to be in hospital the next day anyway, I'd risk it) so my ex and I wombled down the road to place our orders.
We got into the shop, and I was placing my order, when I was pushed from behind, and turned around to find the drunken twat's face about six inches from mine.
"I know 'oo you are now!" he screamed. "You fahking stuck up cow! You and your fahking mate in the park, wouldn't let us use your fahking sled would you you cow!"
I did a quick mental rekkie; The last time I'd been in a park, with a friend and a sled, was when I'd been about twelve years old, and we'd been rather intimidated by a gang of boys all aged about sixteen. Oh yes. Then I remembered who he was. A big bully, and it appeared that he'd not lost his social skills over the years.
The rest of the shop went silent. Big fat ugly drunken bully continued to shout and swear at me. Then, he shoved his hand in my face.
Big mistake.
Just quickly for new readers, I am not a violent person, I have learnt 'self-defence' techniques from well trained persons, and I have never needed a bouncer whilst running pubs. Also, I really, really, cannot abide bullies. Especially when they try picking on me, and even more so when I'm about to go for surgery the next day.
The git was beyond 'calming down' and wouldn't get his hand out of my face. I lost my temper. Next thing the idiot knew, I'd got his arm behind his back, my ex moved the customers out of our way, and I bundled him outside.
"You wanna fahking start?" he bellowed, and tried to punch me. He missed, so I decided it was my turn, caught him a left blow to the ear, and a right to the nose.
"You really wanna fahking start?" he screamed again, to which I thought, I already have you dickhead.
He swung at me again, and luckily I missed the blow by cunningly falling off my high-heels, then bouncing back up off the pavement and attempting to send him flying with a full roundhouse, which missed, but according to the audience looked most impressive!
The 'fight' continued for a while with him flailing his fists around and missing me completely, whilst I returned his blows and made contact.
After I got a wonderful kick to his stomach, he must have realized that he wasn't getting anywhere, and decided to launch himself at me and once more shoved his hand in my face. My reaction was to bite his hand - hard.
There was a scream followed by a whimper, as my teeth got hold of his thumb and blood started trickling down his arm.
As we stood there, my ex came to the door of the shop and said "Sweetie, put the nasty man down now. If you're hungry the kebabs are ready and I'm sure they'll taste much better than him"
I let go, and went back into the shop.
The customers were staring at me in silence, so I said I was sorry, but I just lost my temper as I was under a rather huge amount of stress, and I didn't normally behave like that, ever.
From outside there came another drunken bellow, this time directed at my ex.
"It's not fahking over! you wanna fahking start ya cahnt? come on ya fahkers, I'll take each and every one of ya on, cah'mon!"
My ex stood his ground in the doorway and calmly said "Listen pal, you've just been beaten up by a girl, you've lost, you're making yourself look like a total prat. Sod off or I'll let her loose again"
Finally, he slank away into the dark, bouncing off lampposts and leaving a trail of blood and spittle as he went.
I'm still not proud of what I did that night, but I managed to get rid of all my tension, got a rousing cheer from the audience, and a free kebab from the shop keepers who had been trying to get him to leave their shop for a very long time.

Extra, 12:34pm. Mr. Scary asked;
Now we're really cooking with double entendres, how about a picture of you with a couple of big jugs?
Scaryduck Homepage 11.10.05 - 11:09 am #
How could I dare to disappoint...
There you go sir.

Extra, extra, 16:15 hours. Due to the amount of requests from readers who asked for a picture of a furry kebab, (see today's comments if you've only just tuned in) I've decided to get it done and over with now, as I have a post planned for tomorrow already.
So does it get your juices flowing then?