Im 15, thats assault, that is!

Discussion in 'The NAAFI Bar' started by hong_kong_fuey, Dec 22, 2007.

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  1. I've woken with a hangover that George Best would have been proud of. However, there's a niggling anxiety about me that I just can't shake off.

    On Thursday, while driving, I gave a female motorist a bit of mouth (I know, I shouldn't have). The dozy bint was parked on a junction leading to a busy main road, and her presence was causing rush hour chaos. If she'd only have parked 20 metres further down the road, she would have avoided the ensuing chaos and burned a few calories with her walk to the shop. Now, I didn't shout anything offensive. I wound the window down and shouted, 'you're in the way!'. Then I recognised her as a woman who lives down my street. Oh well, I thought.

    Cue, Friday night. I was walking back from the pub in a nicely inebriated state, just minding my own business. I approached the shop on the corner of the same junction, and popped in to buy a couple of nightcaps. I spotted the woman motorist's son and his mate loitering by the door. They gave me the eyes; I gave the eyes back, and thought nothing of it.

    As I left the shop her son squared up to me, with fists clenched and mad eyes. Then his (bigger) mate stood to my blind side with the stance and breathing rate of a boxer about to go into the ring. "Did you call my mum a c4nt?" Eh, I thought. "No, I didn't call her a c4nt. I merely shouted that she was in the way", said I. "No you didn't, I saw you call her a c4nt", said he. Then a bit of fear crept into me. I had nowhere to run since my back was against the door of the shop, and I had a wall to my left. To my front and right, no more than a few inches away, I had the chav mongs becoming more and more threatening.

    I felt it obvious that the bigger one wanted a brawl. So, whilst looking at the son, I struck his mate around the head with three palm heel strikes and gave him a shin grinding with a Vibram sole. This had the desired effect of getting him a few feet back, allowing me to get into open space. Next thing I know, my fists are up and I'm walking backwards away from the scene. I must have looked a complete tit. The son then threatened me with his older brother and (ex-copper) father: "They're gonna mash you up!" said he. I said, "Your dad's name is *****, isn't it? I know him, I'll go and have a word about this".

    After getting about 10 metres down the road, the chavs rode past me on their bikes. Fearing a mini-swarm I gave them a bit of verbal aggression in an attempt to dissuade them from attacking. Next thing I know, the bigger one shouted, "I'm 15, that's assault that is! You're thirty-odd, that's assault that is! I've had better beatings off a year 7!" I assumed they were 17, since I've seen the son racing his mother's car about.

    About ten minutes later I arrived home and they are outside my house. Now it's getting serious, I think. So, I say "Let's square this up now, shall we", fists raised. The bigger one said, "Well, as long as this doesn't get back to his parents, we can forget about it." He had a nice red mark on his cheekbone. Cue a positive ten minute discussion with apologies from all sides and with me explaining that I didn't call his mum a c4nt, and that I only meted out the slapping because 'I didn't know if he was going to stab me'. We shook hands and left it at that.

    I got in and drank my ales and went to sleep. Now I'm awake, and I'm wondering what next. They know where I live. They could call the police. Or a dispute could arise with their family members.

    Surely I was right to do what I did. I was defending myself. The saving grace is that no-one got really hurt. But the fcuking bastwards have ruined my weekend. :x
  2. Fcuk em, you did the right thing. If it kicks off later then deal with it, no point in dwelling on it as it might ruin your weekend..... sorry, it seems it already has.
  3. tell them Jeremy Clarkson told you it would be ok!
  4. Old saying mate.

    The best form of defence is attack. It seems as though you had little choice.
  5. You got done by a couple of 15 year olds.
  6. So are you saying you got beaten up by a couple of school kids :?
  7. No, I didn't get struck. But I felt that I was about to be attacked. I had no space (my back against a glass door with them arced around me no more than a few inches away. If I'd been hit by one of them I would have been in sh1t. I hit the bigger guy 3 times (open hand) and gave his shin a bit of shining. I got into open space and walked off.
  8. Was the big lad over 5 ft tall, i bet you stole his milk money swein :twisted:
  9. Nice one , you did the right thing, trouble is nowadays they probably could've had you done for assault even though they were the aggressors, thats the times we're living in.......if more people did as yourself maybe these cowardly little fcukers would get the message !
  10. In his defence, in a society were adults get knifed by first-years it's not that helpful to mock him for a bit of physical defense.

    A lot of people would have struck back too hard, and not talked it over afterwards.

    Right thing done.
  11. I was scared I might knock some of his milk teeth out. He was probably 5'9" (I'm 6 foot) but he was well built. I feared he may have had a knife, or that if he punched me from the blind side, that would have opened up an attack from all sides, and I had nowhere to move. But seriously, this sh1t would never have happened in my day.
  12. Listen mate the key words.

    "I felt I was in serious danger"

    No one truly knows what goes on inside of you, but if a couple of scrotes corner you, you are able to use reasonable proportionate and appropriate force under the circumstances in order to get out alive.

    And that is what you done.

    So now we can all have many worry free chav beating hours as long as we “feel we are in danger”

    The law is a wonderful thing if used correctly.
  13. I bet if the lad was on his own he wouldnt of said f all.
  14. Or just start carrying bigger knives......
  15. Fess up HKF. I wouldn't go to the trouble of winding my window down to shout a very genteel "Your in the way". More likely it was:

    "You feckin $hitebag! Pull a trick like that again and I'm going to park my car up your fat arse, you inconsiderate motherfecking bag of stinking retard pus"

    Or words to that effect.