Thursday, April 12, 2007


Ah, another splendidly grown-up night out.

We went to an excellent venue in our local-ish university town to see the one of our favourite bands, the incomparable Hayseed Dixie. It was all good, and since I'd been out on Tuesday night and put myself on the outside about a gallon of cheap white wine I was more than happy to drive.

Well. I say happy.

In fact, I was in a murderous, glowering mood, of the sort that frightens children and makes old ladies fork the sign of the evil eye. It was nobody’s fault but mine – I am way, way too old to have two late nights in a row. Still, I had a short, head-rolling sleep in the car on the way there and by the time we arrived was feeling a little more chipper.

And it all started really, really well. A couple of drinks in the Union bar to start with (where I sat and quietly mourned not having had the foresight at sixteen to carry on with my academic career – I would have been aces at drinking snakebite and black and attending three lectures a week), then into the venue itself. It’s a top place – the stage faces a sort of mini-amphitheatre with steps on three sides, so it’s always relatively easy to find a good spot to stand if you don’t fancy getting sweaty with the students in the pit. The band were fantastic as always – if you’ve never heard a bluegrass cover of Cliff Richard’s 'Devil Woman' you haven’t lived. I was on the diet coke, the Other Half was necking Stella like it was Prohibition tomorrow. All good.

And then it happened.

Out of the darkness, preceded by a waft of dirty t-shirt, stumbled a dishevelled being seemingly on the point of collapse. Now, it’s an occupational hazard of gig-going – at some point someone will piss you off, even as you yourself are pissing someone else off. The trick, of course, is to quietly fade away if someone is tetchy enough to point this out to you. So, when Dirty-T-Shirt-Man barged his way into a perfectly content group of people and proceeded to do sort of far-out stumbly festival-dancing, ricocheting and waving his arms around, it was initially ignored. It’s the British way, don’t you know?


The Other Half is not famed for keeping his temper. An exchange followed in which OH informed Dirty-T-Shirt-Man that really, he was being quite annoying by continually barging into people. DTSM smiled in a glassy-eyed way, explained that he really didn’t want to “spoil anyone’s vibe” and carried on flailing around and leaning against random people for support, all the while smelling like a tramp’s vest. The Other Half seethed. I went for a wee, hoping that by just ignoring the situation it might go away. And do you know, after a little while it did. Dirty-T-Shirt-Man stumbled into the pit to fall against a whole new set of people. We watched the rest of the set in peace, bought a t-shirt and headed for the car. A happy ending, then.

Until the Other Half came out of the loos on the way to the car and explained triumphantly that he’d seen the guy in there and laid him out. Nice.

Cut to the journey home, with the Other Half asking every five minutes if I hated him, and me replying through gritted teeth that of course I didn’t, but could he try not hitting people in future if they weren’t actually threatening his physical welfare?

Boys, eh?


Blogger First Nations chimed in with...

wow! he beat up a bum in the mens toilet?
hell, he's on my team! dibs!
wish i'd had him around at the Baker Bluesfest last year.

12 April, 2007 19:08  
Blogger violetforthemoment chimed in with...

What is it with boys and wanting to hit people after 6 pints? Mr Violet's a right bugger for that but I have so far managed to drag him away and offer apologies to the people who looked at him funny. He's not like this sober at all.

12 April, 2007 19:54  
Blogger Spinsterella chimed in with...

Oh dear.

A male friend nearly thumped a similar bloke who wasn't even annoying me that much at a gig recently. He'd had a few too...

That's *nearly* though

There's one at every gig. You just want to say - if there's no mosh-pit, don't start one all by yourself!

12 April, 2007 22:05  
Blogger surly girl chimed in with...

in his defence, OH is normally a happy drunk.

it was probably my tendency to snarl at very effort at rapproachment that led to the boy-fight. my worst-case-scenari-ometer was generating eight years for manslaughter...go me!!

12 April, 2007 23:26  
Blogger surly girl chimed in with...


12 April, 2007 23:27  
Blogger Kellycat chimed in with...


I heard a different version of this at work, where OH claimed he was assaulted first.

At Wembley Arena the other week, the woman behind us spilt most of her pint down Duck's back*. When he pointed this out to her, she just smiled sarcastically and said "Thanks for letting me know." She only got away with out because
a) She was a woman, and
b) She was too big a woman for me to punch her for him.

*(beer off a Duck's back? Nevermind...)

13 April, 2007 07:18  
Blogger Kellycat chimed in with...

"it" obviously, not "out"...

13 April, 2007 07:19  
Anonymous Other Half chimed in with...

In my defense he did smell really badly !

13 April, 2007 08:57  
Blogger surly girl chimed in with...

note to self: never try and spell french words Late At Night.

13 April, 2007 08:59  
Blogger Billy chimed in with...

I'm actually less likely to hit people after drinking. I do swear a bit more though.

And if the man smelt, surely threatening him with a bar of soap would have been better. That's what I would have done, had I a bar of soap handy.

13 April, 2007 12:14  
Blogger Eliza chimed in with...

i think you should proud of OH.
my worsehalf would run screaming like a girl and you'd see a worsehalf shaped hole in the wall if anyone bigger than him* got slightly lairy.

*and smaller than him

13 April, 2007 13:30  
Blogger Femme Fontanelle chimed in with...

Naughty OH (naughty, MANLY OH!)

13 April, 2007 14:27  
Blogger claire chimed in with...

Ha! I might have been upset that he didn't do it out in the open. I might have wanted to see that.

Hopefully DTSM's stinky friends picked him up and brought him to his stinky home.

13 April, 2007 18:08  
Anonymous wyndham chimed in with...

Ah the *hilarious* Hayseed Dixie. To be honest, they'd make me want to punch somebody.

14 April, 2007 11:54  
Anonymous Toomuchgrief chimed in with...

Punching people while pissed in pub toilets - oh how very British. Makes me proud of my nation.

They don't call Stella "wife Beater" for nothing.

Three pints of beater please barman. Apparently violence makes me manly.

17 April, 2007 12:49  
Blogger DavetheF chimed in with...

Wherefore Artois, Rambo?

01 May, 2007 19:07  
Anonymous Anonymous chimed in with...

Ah, whacking drunk people in toilets - the romance. You must have been so proud.

03 May, 2007 22:38  

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