Sunday, August 24
Fighting Talk
Okay, so it's 3am and I'm posting to my blog. I blame the alcohol and the fact that my parents are away. Mmmmmm, computer any time I want it. Please excuse the typing mistakes, I'm trying to correct as I go. Actually, this is what the world needs more: drunken statements. Never a truer word is spoken than when you're drunk.
What happened tonight was: caught the bus to Bath with Eddie, Mace and Sketch. We stopped off in a few bars / pubs before we got to this place called Central Wine Bar. In there, the four of us bought this 4-pint jug of Woo-Woo. Woo-Woo is a cocktail made up of vodka, peach schnapps and cranberry juice. It costs £18 per jug in this place, but it's worth it. 4 (!) pints of cocktail for £18? I think so. I managed to convince the barman to throw a bit more vodka in, so we were well sorted. And no, I didn't have to show any nipples to get some more vodka.
We somehow managed to meet up with a few more mates in Central Wine Bar, then we met a couple more in Slug & Lettuce, which is possibly the most random name for a bar / pub ever. Actually, before Slug & Lettuce, we popped into Baty's, where I tried one of their AlcoTubes. Fucking waste of £1, I tell you. It tasted of Ribena, and I swear that there was no alcohol in it all. Meh.
Anyway, in Slug & Lettuce, I ended up chatting to this random girl (Ellie was the name, I believe) about random shit. She was alright and a good laugh, but I was fairly pissed and led her a merry dance concering the names and occupations of my mates that I was with. It was all good fun though. Somebody bought me a vodka-jelly, so I threw that down my neck. Again, another crappy drink which didn't even give the hint of alcohol in it. As we were leaving (so many bars, so little time), I bent over to give Ellie (whatever her name was) a little peck for chatting and filling half-an-hour of my night out, but she went to shove her tongue in my mouth. For some reason, I pulled away and walked off. Still not quite sure why. She was fairly overweight, so perhaps my subconscious standards committee made the decision.
Damn you subconscious standards committee!
The night gets better though. Well, descriptively it gets better, anyway.
The bus ride home was fucking quality, 12 of us making so much noise singing random songs that the rest of the bus had no choice but to join in. "We hate Wesley" was a favourite, as was "On your own" whenever anybody tried to start a song without a response. We got off the bus in Melksham, stopped for a quick pint on the Bear, then moved onto Buds. I was chatting away outside with whomever was nearby, holding my own (I think) in conversation, even though I was twatted. After Buds it all kicked off.
We all headed to Acropolis, the local late-night kebab house, to get some munchies. I got mine sorted (Chips & Cheese), and went and sat on a bench opposite with a mate of mine. Then, this gilr started mouthing off at me, for a reason that I forget right now. She started bitching about my big ears and calling me ugly, so I gave as good back as I got. I applauded her for coming up with something original in calling me "big-ears" and ugly, then told her that she was fucking ugly too. She tried to give me a slap, but I ducked and Mace took the slap for me. Good man.
It degenerated into a slanging match, with her coming up with nothing original and me doing my sarcastic applause every time she mentioned my ears. Then came the turning point.
I ripped off this tiny bit pf polystyrene from my food box, and threw it towards my mate Mace. It happened to miss and fall on this guy Matt that I knew. I've known him since I was about 5 years old, but we've fallen out of contact in the past few years. Anyway, he went fucking mad about the fact this polystyrene tab had landed on him, and was ready to spark me out. I stood up to him (even though I was sitting) and didn't budge an inch. He grabbed with me with two hands around the throat and told me to apologise. I told him, in unequivocal terms, to fuck off.
Cue about 20 minutes when all my mates were trying to calm him down, his mates were trying to make me apologise, and both of us being stubborn bastards. Call me arrogant, stubborn and unapologetic, but I firmly believe that I was in the right. He fucking over-reacted and went ape-shit on my ass. Even a couple of girlfriends (not proper girlfriends, although one...) told me to calm down and all that shit, but I was having none of it. This other skinhead guy came over and fucking bitched about who I was having a problem with. I pointed out Matt, but this guy was certain that I was pointing at him. Cue another 5 minutes of me telling him to fuck off as well.
I've never been a fighter, and hopefully never will be, even after a fair few drinks, so I was the one sitting back and doing fuck-all. I pray that I stay like that forever with alcohol. I'd hate to be one of those types (a la Matt) that gets punchy after a few drinks.
Eventually, he came over and apologised to me. Does that make him the bigger man, or is that an admittal of guilt? I don't know, you decide. Either way, my pride was intact at the end, and my body was intact apart from a sore bit on my neck where he grabbed me. The cunt. He was deicdedly apologetic, but I remained slighlty aloof and uncommitted to the apology / handshake. Fuck it, so I'm an arrogant bastard, I don't give a shit. Fuck it.
