Sunday, 24 January 2010

Brawling

Bars, clubs, pubs, gigs, raves, concerts, house parties. Whatever your favourite place to go is, whether you’re planning on socialising, catching up, dancing or just getting plain-old-fashioned off-your-nut-drunk, there is always some cretin who will start a fight.

It’s a given that when people are drunk they are clumsy and bump into people. This doesn’t mean they are challenging them to some fisticuffs, throwing down the proverbial gauntlet when they accidentally spill a few sips of whoever’s drink. Yet some people can’t help but prove just how awesome they are by either hurling a torrent of abuse or, in a few cases, actually being stupid and ridiculous enough to get physical.

It amounts to pointless violence fuelled by cheap alcohol. Not that I think it’s a bad thing alcohol is cheaper than milk. You can’t have beer on your cereal. People will always love milk.

Presumably these street fighters think they’re proving a point by causing trouble. Maybe it makes them look super cool? Maybe they’ll get to screw more chicks if they get into a fight and can show off their war wounds.

However, I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who was impressed with fighting that wasn’t a thug and who hadn’t ended up with a share of broken bones at one time or another.

Only the other day I was out in a club with a few friends. It was fancy dress so we were painted as Smurfs. I saw an angry looking guy circling another guy who was talking to a girl. Suddenly the aggressor sprung and pulled him to the floor. Drunken fighting looks like a spaghetti bolognaise sprawl of limbs flying in various directions but with hardly any punches landing. It looks obscene.

Without getting too soppy, “where is the love”, people? What’s wrong with having a night out that doesn’t involve hurling torrents of abuse at misunderstood strangers? Also, what the hell is wrong with all these people who get so drunk they fall on their asses. Honestly, what would their dear nanas say? They’d probably be so outraged that they’d never cook them a fruit cake to take back to University ever again.


Jordan Bintcliffe