Mancs are rubbish muggers.
About twenty years ago I was walking down an alley between two busy-ish shopping streets in Mancunianster. A pasty-faced little twat sidled up and flashed a knife at me and asked for my wallet. This was the era of Crocodile Dundee, but sadly I didn't have a big fuck-off knife. So for want of anything better to say or do I said "ummm ... yeah ... hang on a sec mate". This seemed to confuse the poor double-y-chromosomed fuck and I ran away.
( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Thu 15 Jun 2006, 16:57, Reply)

money, money, money
I was on an errand to the back in town to deposit a large rent cheque into my back account. However, I dropped into Tesco on the way, got some food and was just stuffing the receipt into my wallet when, unbeknownst to me, all my cheques and money fell on the floor.

I started walking up the street towards the bank when a flushed looking businessman tapped me on the shoulder and said 'excuse me, but i think something fell out of your purse'. I ran like the wind back to Tesco, and started crawling on my hands and knees at the entrance trying to find this elusive cheque and my bus pass and whatever the hell I had in there. I panicked and ended up in tears, frantically searching the floor. After 10 minutes and tearful phone call to my mum, the business man, whom up to now I considered my saviour, came back in, and asked rather bashfully 'erm, did you lose any money ?'. More stressed out at the possibility of losing this cheque, I sobbed ' I don't know, ten or twenty quid, i can't remember...'. He bashfully said ' well..erm.... this must be yours then', slapped a tenner in my hand and ran away.

I rememberered later on that day that I had actually got £40 cashback from the till prior to dropping it all on the floor. So even though some nice person handed in my hefty cheque safe and sound, I couldn't get over the fact that the fat old business man, who surely wasn't short of a few quid, couldn't resist lying to and stealing from a crying girl. Twunt.
(heartspark, Thu 15 Jun 2006, 16:54, Reply)

It's not fun.
Was riding too meet the (not that we knew it then) 'missus at the local swimmery. The guy* was waiting for victims just past the road crossing so 1 had to slow down. the nice man* asked me if i had a fag lighter, which i declined. the honourable gentleman* proceeded to remove my vehicle from underneath me and rode off and never saw the fellow* again.

Got a hug out of it from the soon to be missus. so not all doom and gloom. And as for the insurance replacement, he can mug me anytime soon.

*(cunt)
( Laice , was Rogitating on, Thu 15 Jun 2006, 16:49, Reply)

My true story...
Bit of a long one but hopefully worth the effort (I have previously posted this on my LJ in a slightly different form):

Ever since I can remember I always wanted a real sword. I think a few parenting mistakes when I was at an early age gave me an obsession with all things sharp and pointy that continues to this day.

My interest in swords either combined with, or contributed to, my interest in history, so starting to learn to swordfight seemed a likely option, despite this though, I only took it up a few years back.

I bought my first real sword in Prague in 1995 (I don't count the crappy katana knock-off that I bought at Camden Market in the early nineties as real), hadn't planned on it, just noticed a stall in the Old Town Square when I had just finished the Beer Tour and it seemed like a good idea at the time.

It just sat in the corner of the various flats and bedsits I lived in for a few years (and storage places when I had nowhere to live). I wasn't all that well off for ages and couldn't afford another holiday until 2000 but when I did, I went back to Prague and bought more stuff. I kept doing this for a few years until I ended up with my current tally of chain mail, some plate armour, a few helmets, five swords, long dagger, axe, shield, gauntlets, wooden wasters (practice swords) and a few throwing needles (as used in Knifey-Swordey, a version of cricket using swords as bats and throwing needles as 'balls').

My mate Andy started coming on the Prague trips with me and buying up kit and we started to learn the basics of swordfighting, really just to justify the purchase of all this kit (that neither of us could really afford).

We already knew a few basic attacks and blocks from a friend called Phil (known as Bilbo in Viking re-enactment circles and very skilled). Since then we've used Fecht Buchs to learn more. These are basically late medieval/early renaissance sword manuals and help you understand how some of the stuff was used.

We're still a bit rubbish but it's a good excuse to meet up at the weekend, have a few beers and work off a bit of aggression. It also incidentally may have saved my life a while ago.

Successfully performing a martial art of any kind involves repetitious training and sword fighting is no different to this. Continued practice of the same moves helps build up 'muscle-memory' where you react correctly to attacks and attack in turn, without having to think through all the details. This helped me when two guys tried to mug me at knifepoint on a London Common a while back.

I was walking across an open space (which shall remain nameless) really late at night to buy some fags from a garage on the other side. Really dumb I know, but I don't believe in living in fear and periodically challenge myself to do stuff like this, things that should be perfectly safe, if not for idiots and crazy people. I also took an extendable baton with me inside my jacket, just in case (again a bit dumb as that's an arrestable offence but turned out to be the only smart thing I did that night).
I used to work for the Underground and during the years I worked there suffered four serious assaults, two of these were from trying to stop blokes beating the shit out of their girlfriends, one of whom was carrying his knife for him. Nice. Anyway, that general experience didn’t do much for my relaxation and for a while I found I only had the confidence to go out late if I had something to ‘defend myself’ with. I’m not sure I agree with that sort of thing 100% anymore but then, I’m a bit better off and live somewhere an awful lot nicer.

It also made me somewhat paranoid hence the seemingly over cautious methods described below.

I walked over to the garage, no problem - didn't walk on the path, walked parallel to it by about 20 metres, crouching down every now and then to try and skyline people who might be on the common. Bought the fags, smoked one, then waited for my night vision to restore before walking back across. yes, I'm paranoid but this one time it all helped. I was also aware that my landlord had been mugged on the common the previous year so it wasn't unrealistic to expect there to be muggers out there.

I did the same parallel-walk, skylining thing, didn't see anyone, until, three quarters of the way across, caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of my left eye - turned my head and saw big guy (they're *always* big in the dark) coming right for me at speed, knife in hand, with another guy behind him.

The guy was a few metres off and although I can put on a terrific burst of speed (“I’m very dangerous over short distances, we dwarves are natural sprinters!”), I instinctively knew I wasn't going to have time to start running (and anyway, that puts an armed man behind me, who can do what he likes with impunity). Without having to think about it, I reached into my inside jacket pocket where I had the baton, then with one swift, fluid motion drew it out and extended it instantly - the guy stopped dead and then ran away, with his friend following rapidly - although there was a tremendous impulse to follow them and attack - I did the sensible thing and legged it home while I had the opportunity.

Thinking back you kind of think you could have thought of something cool or ‘witty’ to say instead I think I squeaked “Fuck off, fuck off!” in a weirdly gruff high pitched way

Here's the thing, I think what scared the guy off wasn't simply the baton, it was the fact that I was ready instantly and appeared to know what I was doing. I was also holding it in my left hand - as he was right-handed and I had reach advantage (longer weapon) that puts him at an instinctive disadvantage - I can attack and block his right arm, while any attack on his part would have left him exposed - I didn't think about any of this at the time, I reasoned it out later.

At the time these were all instinctive moves for me because Andy and I were doing a lot of practice back then; even the motions I had to do to take out the baton were identical to drawing a sword, and the attacks I would have needed if the guy kept coming are attacks we were practicing all the time (upper arm, shoulder, head). Fortunately I didn't have to do anything more than brandish the thing and squeak. That’s when I really understood why soldiers, firemen sportspeople etc train so much, it really does make action instinctive when you don’t have time to think through your reactions – I always knew that but analysing those events after the fact I really *understood* it for the first time.

Just in case anyone reading this thinks I'm some sort of combat monster, let me tell you what happened next. I got home and emptied out my pockets, I had 19 cigarettes and £1.47 on me. That was it. Some guys were going to rob, maybe stab and potentially kill me for £1.47. When the shock of it all hit me I cried like I haven't done since I was six.

I gave up smoking a few weeks later.
(Wascally Weasel now with 100% fewer jokes., Thu 15 Jun 2006, 16:48, Reply)

Would Have Been Mugged If...
I wasn't pissed.

I was walking home from a house party at about 3 in the morning, a good 7 mile walk and I was rather knackered and a lil drunky. I was a couple of corners away from my house when a delightful young bastard came out from the park next to the road I was walking on and asked 'ya got a fag, mate?'. As I had been continually smoking during the night, I truthfully replied 'no, sorry.' and walked along my merry little way.

That, in most scenarios, would be the end of the matter, and I would have felt a slight pang of guilt as I finished my journey.

But no.

'Oi! You got a fag?' shouted the eegit with a clear misunderstanding of the word 'no', to which I foolishly thought I could combat with a repeat.

Cue repeat around 20 times before I just ignored him and continued walking.

He continued, more and more aggressively, while at this point treading on my heels with every step. So I shouted 'NO!' without looking at him.

At this point he grabbed my shoulder before planting a shot in my chest and kicking my shin. Again, if this were any normal circumstance, I would have legged it and thought nothing more of it.

But in my 'invincible' state of drunken euphoria, I hit him.

Hard.

In the face.

He fell.

I THEN ran.

Apologies for the anti-climax of the story but it just goes to show that there really is only one way to show chavs that they are not good people in any way at all.

Further apologies for length, but it's my job as a male to make up excuses...
(I R Tomsk pyromaniacs will only inflame the situation, Thu 15 Jun 2006, 16:46, Reply)

Bricks!
A few years back, my mother saw someone grab one of those collection jar thingies for cancer/etc and run with it..straight towards her.

So she hit him in the face with her purse.

She collects old bricks, and happened to have a couple with her at the time, and so it knocked him out with a broken nose.
(Fodqou, Thu 15 Jun 2006, 16:44, Reply)

Maybe mugged?
My boyfriend once got extremely drunk that he got lost in Manchester (despite living there all his life). In the morning he could remember nothing except that a black girl helped him get home. Then he finds his cards gone and suspects the girl took it, nevermind he thought I'll just cancel it and get a new card.
New card arrives and he finds that the last £70 has gone. To this day he cant remember taking it out and if he was mugged by the girl, or he gave her £70 for helping him.
(purplefairy, Thu 15 Jun 2006, 16:35, Reply)

Can't remember where i heard it...
But it was a story about a lass in New York. Her dog had pissed on it's last car tyre, and died at home durnig the night...

In order to get rid of the stiff Hound she opted to take it to the vet's and use thier big wheelie-bin marked "Pets only". The nearest Vet' was a good way away, so, lacking her own wheels, she opted to pack Lassie into an old suitcase, and cart pooch around NY on the subway.

Dogs usually carry themsleves, therefore weight is not really a consideration for most owners. This one wasn't small, and post-mortem, this dog was following the generally standard trend of being immobile. The lass was seen struggling with the dead weight when a passer-by asked if she required help, and she thankfully accepted.

"Wow, this is heavy... what've you got in here?"

Thinking fast, she responds "Erm, My computer and a few books"

Thinking with similar speed, the oppertunistic arse punches the lass, and makes off with the "computer".

Instant Karma.
( Humpty Dumpty was Pushed Is unaware of having any limits., Thu 15 Jun 2006, 16:34, Reply)

i was mugged
by a group of cups
(daleks-legs pleasantly suprised no ones said i dont exist, Thu 15 Jun 2006, 16:30, Reply)

Mugged
Mugged of 1st place again....damn you!
(You Love It, Thu 15 Jun 2006, 16:30, Reply)

A friend of mine from NYC
when he was a kid got mugged by a gang of kids who wanted his bike. They ran when a group of bigger kids showed up.

I just never pictured kids mugging other kids, but I guess why not?
( setimret likes his metaphors mixed, not stirred, Thu 15 Jun 2006, 16:11, Reply)

when i was five i was taken to visit a farm/kids meet animals place
a turkey stole my sandwich.
it was a turkey sandwich.

another more serious time was in soho a few months ago. some guy ran up and grabbed my wallet out of my pocket. busy street, i run after him screaming "give my fucking wallet back you cunt!"
It's funny how all the people standing around pretending to be tough suddenly shrink away from anything like this. I ended up in an alley being beaten with chains by 2 guys who wouldn't give my wallet back no matter how much i was bellowing at them. so i did the only sensible thing. I charged straight at them (for those of you who don't know a chain leaves a fair bit of distance between them and you). they ran for it.
had some fucking big bruises from that.

the moral of this story is, don't chase someone who took your money down an alley. it hurts. however, if you DO find yourself in this position the best response is to be as aggressive as possible. Oh, and nobody will ever fucking help you if you're attacked/robbed/whatever. I saw someone being pickpocketed in broad daylight a couple of days ago with about 70 passers by watching. The only thing that stopped it was me shouting "OI! WHAT ARE YO DOING TO HER BAG?".
People are fucking useless. Especially if your assailant is a cannibal turkey.
(you FUCKING *BANG* BANG*BANG* AAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGHHHHH!, Thu 15 Jun 2006, 16:09, Reply)

mugged
Not too long ago, a bleak party crawling with hoodies and dismal music. Whilst contemplating ways out me and my frend where approached by a menacing ratlike creature with a hitler moustache and a nike jumper, demanding to see out phone's.We met this with the usual refusals and denials, to which he looked midly irritated and promptly shot out his hand into my friends pocket, withdrawing a flashy nokia phone. My friend looked at him intenty, as if pondering a difficult maths problem, and proclaimed "I feel so violated you did that." The creatures swore and fucked off but left me in tears of laughter at my friends rightous indignation. I'm not sure where this is going/.
(speranza, Thu 15 Jun 2006, 16:06, Reply)

Silly Chavs.
So we were having a rather nice party on the beach, me and a friend take a wander to the sea, I'm very very drunk and this group of nice young chavs come over, speaking to my friend tell him to give them his wallet and yadda yadda, then I - being but a little girl pipes up 'noo leave him alloooone, why you havta be soo meaan?' I get in the way a lot and end up getting whacked one in the face...

Then we ran away...

About ten minutes later I realise the guy that hit me in the face is about 50 meters away with his little group of girls, so me being fearless wanders over and demands that he apologises...

The girls start yelling at him and cue a very sheepy looking chav.

I got my apology and stopped my friend being mugged, this is why we love absinthe.

:)

I have no length or girth, I am a girl.
(Big Spoon Baby Balloon hides in corners, Thu 15 Jun 2006, 16:01, Reply)

Not really mugging....
but I was walking down a particularly dodgy street in lovely Ballymena one night when I suddenly woke up in my bed the next morning.

Strange I thought, I must have had a good night cos I cant remember a damn thing. Turns out some guy had been dumped by his bird and he came charging out the pub, fuming, seen me and punched me in the back of the head (right behind the ear), knocking me clean out.

Unfortunatly for him his bird had shouted his name. Turns out he worked with me in the local supermarket. Can you say 'Fired'? He also met the rough end of the local paramilitaries for 'disturbing the peace'

Even better, I never felt any pain from the assault, even tho the bastard took my ear lobe off. (had to have it stitched back on)
( Bamboo Steamer, Thu 15 Jun 2006, 15:59, Reply)

I hope the cheeky little f*cker choked.
I'm lucky enough to never have been mugged by a human, though I was once mugged by a pigeon outside Southampton's Bargate Centre. I was sat on a bench eating a choc chip muffin when one of the city's aerial rats.

The fat bastard defied physics as it flew in, landed on my lap, grabbed hold of the muffin in its beak and flew off with it.
(Ariaxen, Thu 15 Jun 2006, 15:54, Reply)

KEBAB!!!
after reading another post i remember a story where i wasn't QUITE mugged exactly...

I was in Newcastle city centre with some mates from NR and in a kebab shop called Salt and Pepper (what a rancid shithole that was)... I was kinda drunk but not drunk enough not to realise that i'd been short changed! So after a word with all of my workmates we walked to the door and simultaneously threw our kebabs (with the works, mind) at the guy behind the counter... COVERING him in the stuff... we had to run about 2 miles before the greek bitch stopped chasing us! pfft
(likeajackhammer, Thu 15 Jun 2006, 15:46, Reply)

My sister
got mugged not so long ago. She had nothing on her except her phone. Her phone's knackered, she broke the screen within six months of having it, and then tried to take the cover off to fix it. It's pretty much hanging off.
They took one look at it, handed it back and walked off without a word.
(and now for someone completely different, Thu 15 Jun 2006, 15:45, Reply)

Abra Kababra...
Now you see it, now your picking your teeth off the floor.

5 weeks ago, i went out into Plymouth city centre for my mate stu's stag do... good night had by all from landrake and me being left vaguely responsable for the well being of the group bundled every body but myself into cornwall bound taxis.

with there being no more room for me i decide to get a kebab and get a taxi back on my own. i have never (until this fateful night) had any trouble in town as a large metalhead with an eight inch goatee (not goatse) and leather trenchcoat tends not to have many people argue with him.

i have however consumed during the day my own body wieght in guinness and again in Jack Daniel's and this has left me some what groggy. As I munch on my tasty kebab and waiting for my cab, i notice that the world has taken a most unusual move and come up to meet me in the jaw. picking my self off the floor i recieve a bloody hard kick in the side of my face and crumble back to earth with a few loose dentures.

now i shall point out that my coat is fairly new and cost £500, my New Rock boots come in at a modest £300. I have a brand new Sony Walkman Mobile Phone, a £150 watch, so what do you think the two chav cnuts stole from me?


That's right - My fucking kebab!


Bastards, i was fucking hungry!

*insert huge cock gag here*
( Druss_The_Legend Splurge!, Thu 15 Jun 2006, 15:41, Reply)

My mate mugged himself
A guy I knew at Uni in Bradford (because there's literally no other reason to BE in Bradford) was walking home up a well known deserted and dodgy street at around 4am after his night shift on the bar at the FND (the spectacularly awful Friday Night Disco -yes, it was as shit as it sounds). Pissed up, because they used to let you clear the lines after the event as the venue was only used once a week.

A trampy sort of guy walks up to him (this happens a lot in scumsville). Before the street-dweller could start banging on about needing a cup of tea my mate pulls out his wallet and throws it at him and shouts 'here, just TAKE IT!!' and walks home.

His reason? He was 'sick of being bothered for money'. But to be fair that tramp made off with £200 so I don't think my mate'll do it again, the dumb twat.
(Northern Lovely, Thu 15 Jun 2006, 15:38, Reply)

oh the mammories...
.. well, when i was 14 i used to goto karate twice a week (which was held at a school in the West End of Newcastle)... On regular occasions we used to get heckled by the local chavs and my mate (who's half my size but has balls of steel) took one of them on and knocked him clean out...

The next week, when my hard mate was ill, a group of BIGGER lads were ready to jump him... realising he wasn't there they jumped me... I was knocked to the floor and all i can remember before being stamped on was seeing my (ex)other mates white socks sprinting into the housing estate.... CUNT!

*edit* incidentley my dad heard about this and changed the kid-in-question's name in my address book and personal organiser to "RUNAWAY" which i though was funny for my dad!
(likeajackhammer, Thu 15 Jun 2006, 15:37, Reply)

Lame attempts
I once had my mobile phone snatched off my belt by some toe-rag who presumably didn't recognise the bag on my shoulder as a laptop bag. Phone was insured.

Another time two guys spotted me pulling my rent from a cash machine and pulled me into an alley to try and relieve me of it. However they were not very big so I pulled them both back out onto the street and they ran away.
( wangmaster2000, Thu 15 Jun 2006, 15:30, Reply)

Arrested for being mugged
1991. November. I'm still doing the whole military thing. Just coming off a six-week course with the Royal Marines in being thrown against a wall (officially called "Self-Defence" or "Unarmed Combat" or (less officially) "Ow! Fuck! That hurt!").

Was studying in Scotland at the time, the course finished on a Friday so decided to get off the train in Birmingham to visit some friends at university there.

Picture, if you will, yours truly - no hair, dressed in bottom half of my uniform (green trousers, black boots) with a Royal Marines sweatshirt on and a green bergen (rucksack).

Walks out of the station, along taxi rank and up and alley way on the way to visit said friends. Young member of the local criminal community jumps out at me and pulls knife demanding my wallet.

I put up my hands and, looking him in the eye tell him I'm moving my hand to my back pocket to get it, and please will he put out his non-knife holding hand palm-up so that I can put my wallet thereon.

Young chap complies with request.

I place wallet gently in his hand, grab both of his wrists simultaneously and head butt him as hard as I could muster. When he crumbled before me I started hitting him and, when the Police arrived a few minutes later, I was still hitting him.

For obvious reasons, I'm arrested and taken to the local station. Explain my story to them and take out my ID card to prove that I'm a kosher military officer (and not a local skinhead). No action taken against me.

Moral of the story, folks : if you're going to mug someone, pick your target carefully.
(Seismologist Have patience. In time even grass becomes milk., Thu 15 Jun 2006, 15:28, Reply)

Flurble -
The beehive or Crown & sceptre?

(I work in Feltham)

I left a teaspoon in once and it poked me in the eye.
(ryushi, Thu 15 Jun 2006, 15:21, Reply)

mugged
annually by the TV licensing people. cunts
(urgle-splurgle molesting small goats since, Thu 15 Jun 2006, 15:15, Reply)

Mugged in the bar (is nowhere safe??)
Earlier this year I met up with a huge group of people I know from teh intarweb (yeah, we're all geeks). We meet regularly (once a year) in the same pub in Feltham. It's a bit of an occasion for a lot of them, and people sometimes get dressed up.

Poor Kit wore an amazing tricorn hat. Got lots of looks, mainly of bemusement, from the locals.

We were all standing chatting when a group of neds (chavs for you southerners) ran in, grabbed her hat, and ran out again. We stood bewildered for a moment, before giving chase, but sadly they had gone.

Kit was unconsolable, but booze helped her get over it eventually.

F x

/Edit: Ryushi, it was the Moon on the Square. Lovely place, happy to let 100 strange internet people take over 1 weekend a year in february :)
(Flurble - The Innocent One, Thu 15 Jun 2006, 15:15, Reply)

Me too.
I got a 5 disc Sony cd changer took out of my arms in Pillgwenlly and it wasn't mine either. I was just running an errand.
Pill scum cunts.

First to post, which I understand matters to some.
(Rhye, Thu 15 Jun 2006, 15:12, Reply)