Too nice to be mugged
I was working late one night, and parked my car in the lot behind my apartment building. I'd never had any problems there before, despite it being in the middle of beautiful downtown Hamilton. It was reasonably well lit, and only a few steps from my car to the door, and being around three a.m. on a Wednesday morning, it was deserted. Keep in mind that I was about 21 at the time, and I'm a girl.

Suddenly, a guy dressed in a black trenchcoat, fedora, red shirt, and black tie (I shit you not) popped out of nowhere. I started to run, and he started yelling something at me... "Wait...stop...I need help!" etc. There was really no place to run to (the door would have taken too long to open with my key) so I stopped. He approached, and told me some sob story about how he was an out-of-town businessman and he had lost his carkeys and he was a diabetic and had no way to get home. He asked me for money, and I gave him a few bucks just to get him to go away. I had at least $50 in my wallet, but I pretended that I only had change. I said that if he needed help, my building had a security guard, and I started walking that way. He followed me, and pretended to be interested in finding the guard. Luckily, as I turned the corner onto the street, there were a bunch of people on the sidewalk, and the guy just kind of dissappeared.

I'm pretty sure I came close to being mugged that night, and it rattled me a lot. I bought a parking pass for an underground lot the next day.

Apologies for length and lack of humor, but I wasn't a terribly funny night.
(BlackArmadillo Avoided writing that article on, Sat 17 Jun 2006, 17:01, Reply)

Who follows strange, obviously dodgy types anyway...
I once got accosted by a chap literally as I left the pub after a bit of lunch. He appeared at my shoulder and started trying to be chummy. Smelt like a tramp, looked like he was a few hundred tins of special brew down and wasa being obviously a bit dodgy. His scheme it seemed was to walk with me up the road until he found an opportunity. So I stopped walking and stood still.

His response was to wave me on with a matey "c'mon I'll walk with you."

"Will you bollocks," I think before replying with a polite but stern, "no."

With this he stops and starts back towards me. "Stay there," I tell him. At this he stops looks a little puzzled then continues his advance and starts to put his hands in the pockets of his hoody.

"I said 'stay there'", will the same level tone but taking up a slightly more assertive stance. He is then stopped about three metres away with his hands in his pockets and begins to draw his left hand from his pocket. At this I realise I've not got a clue if anyones behind me and that my focus is 100% on this guy. Thinking it'd possibly be a good idea to have a cast about I move whilst watching him so that I have better view of the street.

Anyway his hand continues to rise and he shows me a handful of shrapnel. "How much is this mate?" as he shuffles a bit closer with his right hand still out of sight.

Without looking down and making sure I can see his hands I say, "about three quid."

With that I think he realised I wasn't about to give any quarter to whatever it was he wanted as he backed off and left without another word. I never did get to find out what the contents of his right hand would of been if he had removed it from his jacket but I'm pretty sure it wouldn't of been fun.

I then about faced and rejoined my mates in the pub for a well needed drink as I came down from the massive dose of adrenaline my body decided to dump.

Other than that I guess I've been lucky and always try to avoid or deescalate a situation.
(mehmeh 0% witty, Sat 17 Jun 2006, 16:09, Reply)

Paris, France
After a night out on the lash, I came up with the bright idea of scoring some grass. Not knowing any French didn't put me off, so off I stumbled asking the dodgiest looking geezer I could find.

He agreed and off we walked. He said "wait here", and came back two minutes later handing me a little bag of grass. Despite being totally pissed I could tell that it wan't grass of the Mary Jane variety, but grass as in the Wimbledon tennis variety.

It was at this point that I realised he was putting his hand in my pocket to steal my money.

When he clocked I knew, he did a quick grab and ran away with the ten quid or so in my pocket. It then dawned on me I had a half drunk pint of lager I'd stolen from the bar in my inside coat pocket which would make a great projectile.

Having beer in it was the only problem, so I quaffed it and trundled off home. Anyway, not an over exciting finish, but if he'd stuck his hand in my socks he'd have found the £200 or so, I'd secreted away before looking about.
(elyobelyob, Sat 17 Jun 2006, 16:05, Reply)

not me....
my parents were on holiday in naples last year, my mum was walking along the pavement pac-a-mac clutched to her cheast on the one dry day after a week of rain. Some twat comes by nearly knocks her over and makes off with a £5 raincoat.much pointlessness
the moral of the story being either
a)dont walk round hugging your possesions as it makes them appear valuable, or
b)beware of arrying raincoats in soggy cities.....
(skankgirl, Sat 17 Jun 2006, 15:09, Reply)

One night in Bournemouth, me and my friends were just wondering (we're all
very good and none of us drink - despite being 20ish) and we had to stop off at a cashpoint.

Upon turning away from the cashpoint, two giant giant men approached us and asked for a quid. We're pretty sure they wanted a pound each, as they looked quite annoyed as we were working out that'd it'd only be about 20p each to make up this £1.

So we gave them five twenty-pence-pieces, and they said they were very greatful - and as we walked away they shook our hands, and quite literally tried to break them. This was the violence as far as we were concerned.

..

As we were walking away we were deeply concerned as to whether we had been mugged or not. They were very good if they were muggers, as we never really realised. Chances are our putting-together-of-20ps made them think we were hyper-poor weedy students.

Apart from that, and living here in Bournemouth for ten years I've never really had any trouble. If you're a decent judge of character you can tell which people you can just tell to fuck off, and which ones you should really comply too..

xxxxxxxxxxx
( stevierar, Sat 17 Jun 2006, 14:10, Reply)

this message was itself stolen, off Alexei Sayle.

One time at the zoo I was accosted by a medium-sized mammal native to Africa.

I was confused, until someone pointed out it was an 'ard-vark.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Sat 17 Jun 2006, 14:06, Reply)

birds are better muggers than chavs
When i was about 8 i went to queensland and at some bird sanctuary some upstart bird stole my hat, the bastard - i would have chased it except it could fly and unfortunately i cant.

Some idiot chav in manchester also gave me the old "Come on down here" while walking towards an alley but i saw through his darstardly scheme and just kept walking.

This proves that not all answers to the question of the week are at all funny or interesting.
(simplesimon, Sat 17 Jun 2006, 13:33, Reply)

I was mugged of my facial features......
...the mugger got his comuppance within about 3 seconds!

Out on the town one night and full of JD i leave group A to go and meet group B at a different bar. I set off, minding my own business walking up the busiest street (Corn street for you fellow Bristolians) when all of a sudden...BLAM!

The BLAM was some random chap who, and may i be struck down if i'm lying, punched me in the face and put me flat on my back, for seemingly no apparent reason. I said nothing to him. (i'm 6"3 and 17st....to put me down you need a bit of force to give you some perspective.) It fuckin hurt too. Chipped tooth, split lip, broken nose, black eye, ripped my one expensive shirt....ouch.

As i'm collecting my now blood-drenched thoughts together whilst lying on the floor i hear a god almighty THUD! I look next to me to see a chap in a similar situation as me. Hit in the face etc.

I thought my attacker was having some frenzied free for all or something.

Nope, some nice lads had seen the twunt drop me, so took it upon themselves to drop the bastard on my behalf.

Quality blokes. They picked me up, took me into a bar to help me get cleaned up and then one of them gave me a lift to the hospital, never to be seen again.

Sorry, not really a mugging i know, but it sort of fits. Same tit invading personal space and all that.

Length, girth? Lots.....i was lying on the floor though. You don;t like this....you love it!
( The Pollitt chooses to listen to Enya on, Sat 17 Jun 2006, 12:51, Reply)

Revenge!
Long after the aformentioned fair mugging, I was living in Basingstoke.

After one particularly heavy night on the ale I was staggering home whilst on the phone to a similarly drunk mate when I was accosted by 4 chav youths looking to grab my Sony Ericsson 8R1CK.

Now, I'm not one to let go of my possessions lightly, especially when the Red Hand Gang are looking to rough me up.

So when the first one swung for me, I grabbed his arm and head butted him, at which two of the little rascals legged it, not expecting me to fight back.

Then the other lad tried to have a go, so I grabbed him by the neck, and butted his head into the first failed assailant's, busting his nose.

Their comment 'we're gonna smash your fookin face in' wasn't quiet as prescient as they had hoped.

It was a shite phone, too.
(scentless_apprentice takes two bottles into the shower!, Sat 17 Jun 2006, 12:44, Reply)

Animal Muggings
I was out on a school trip, enjoying the lovely scenery out on Burbage Moor, happily enjoying my lunch. When out from nowhere, a sheep stole my banana. I was not happy.
( jim_bob can herd cats., Sat 17 Jun 2006, 11:44, Reply)

mugged
A junkie with a knife robbed me of £40 once.
(dave likes cheese, Sat 17 Jun 2006, 11:42, Reply)

Junior Mafia
Lovely summer's afternoon, wandering along a busy street in a heat-filled stupor, when a charming young gentleman and his equally pleasant chum take the time to engage me in some light fingered pilfering, using that old standby, the knife.

After I'd duly handed over the £7 or so of shrapnel weighing down my pocket, I was quite taken aback to hear that this wasn't sufficient for the combined needs of, most likely, two rocks of finest crack'd cocaine.

"Where are the fucken notes?"
"My dear fellow, I simply have no need of such high levels of currency. See for yourself." And with a deft flourish I open my wallet and demonstrate my lack of 'fucken notes'.

"Are those cash cards?" as he points at my cash cards.
"No."
"Oh, alright." I gave a visible start and cocked an eye-brow at the unexpected success of my ruse.

They then subject me to some sort of pat-down and upon feeling my phone in my pocket ask what it is. Buoyed by my previous success, I venture forth with another untruth.

"'Tis merely a pen."
"Oh, OK. Now don't tell anyone about this, because we're the Junior Mafia round here and we'll break your kneecaps."

Unless it's after 9pm, from whence they must be accompanied by an appropriate Mafia adult.
(baltax, Sat 17 Jun 2006, 11:13, Reply)

I
have an awful feeling this topic may turn into a macho slugfest, but oh well. Live in a jolly nice area of Surrey, but one that happens to have a whacking great pretty rough estate nearbye. Been mugged about 7 times in my lifetime. None of them that interesting, but I did tell a bloke with a knife to fuck of in the middle of UCI. I was 10!
( HelloIamAdam and Adam is my name, Sat 17 Jun 2006, 10:49, Reply)

Jaures, Paris
I was staying at a hostel in Paris and my friend had warned me that if someone walked up and asked me for a light in broken English his mate was about to rip my bag off my shoulder and leg it.

I'd decided that I didn't want all my electrical goodies in my room at the hostel, so I thought I'd put it in the car. So I'm walking along with a grand's worth of laptop, a few hundred quid's worth of digital camera, mp3 player, speakers, etc etc in a huge padded laptop backpack, casually slung over one shoulder. Walking along to the car I notice a rough looking bloke slow down a bit and as I pass him I notice he's got his thumb stuck out just a little, pointing at me. Que his mate walking in from the side and starts asking me for a light. "Fuck you!" I said and legged it back to the hostel. About a minutes later a dozen blokes charge out of the hostel looking for the pair.
( CowJam, Sat 17 Jun 2006, 10:33, Reply)

Heard on a train coming home (aged 16)
knackered in 99' after a Catatonia gig (yeah i know) between two chavvy south east london types, bearing in mind it´s about 1am, the last train and there´s nobody on the train except me and another guy sitting alone on seat behind

Chav A: Walking and sitting next to Chav B -
Oi - What school did you go to?

Chav B:- Southfields - do you go there then?

Chav A:- Know what school I went to?

Chav B:- I dunno

Chav A:- School of mugging (I would imagine he pulled out a knife or something)

Now i shit myself

Chav B:- Really, me too
From what i gather he must have managed to wrestle the knife somehow off him and steal HIS wallet, give him a few good punches and then proceed to walk past me, holding a wallet and in the air like victory treasure and winking at me while i cower and try to sink into my seat.
After that i will never forget what a hero this little scumbag was that day
( SickRik float like a camembert sting like a brie, Sat 17 Jun 2006, 10:14, Reply)

Give me that Cadbury's Creme Egg
I was walking back from the recent Poetry World Cup rather pleased with myself. I was representing The Ivory Coast and I had safely negotiated the opening stages with some cheeky word-play and the skillful rhyming of "cabbage" and "babbage".

Anyway, I had felt rather peckish and delved into my 'man's bag' and produced a Cadbury's Creme Egg (it wasn't even Easter!) and begun to eat it. At this point a scallywag who I imagine had AIDS and one of those 'outie' belly buttons blocks my path. "you chuffer." He anounces. "I hate you. Give us that chocolate treat or I'll touch you with my infected fingers".

Well, I was astounded and did the only thing that came into my head - I challenged him to a street-dance competition. This went on for hours and a crowd gathered. In the end, I conceded and we nodded our heads in mutual respect and went our seperate ways. I often think about that agile young urchin and his high-kicking style. Perhaps one day we'll meet again and end up starting our own private detective agency.
(Andrew Avetoom, Sat 17 Jun 2006, 9:45, Reply)

I'm so fucking 'ard
Right, one night in 'ull, some blerk works up to me, right, and sez e's gonna 'it me if I don't give 'im me dosh.
So being the 'ard lass I am, I punched 'im in t'nuts and towld 'im

"fuck off you scally/chavy/gangstawannabe cunt" and 'e ran away, like, crying, like, like a big fucking gerl.
Twat.
( Batshitmentalist is sane for once, Sat 17 Jun 2006, 6:22, Reply)

Give me your wallet...
"Give me your wallet"

"Excuse me, do you know who I am?"

"Erm... No?"

"I'm your worst fricking nightmare..."

If only that wasn't just a dream... Or something I repeatedly have running through my head everytime I have one too many pints of apples...
(blackfacedfightinggibbon, Sat 17 Jun 2006, 5:16, Reply)

We got onto the subject...
When taking to my mates tonight we happened to get on the subject of muggingsslashbeatings. He reckons they were going to mug him, i just thought they were going to kick the living shite out of him, because he's a bit of a prick when pissed. One of those who drops his pants in middle of the dancefloor, a show off basically. Anyway, they cornered him down the infamouse piss alley in Wigan and what deterred them was that he got his cock out and performed 'the windmill' in the alley, they thought he was weirdo pervert and stalked off.

Moral of teh story, when in doubt, get yer cock out.
(PieEater, Sat 17 Jun 2006, 4:59, Reply)

One evening in 'the dam'
Stumbling around Amsterdam on a stag party, I was with a group of lads but was lagging behind the group, undoubtedly distracted by the ladies in the windows. Suddenly I find that a man has shoved his hand in my shirt pocket.

This must be a tried & tested method for him to steal drugs, for he had hold of my purple haze. However despite my altered state I managed to grab his fingers while they were inside my pocket. In the same way that you could stop someone taking too many crisps from your bag.

We had reached a stalemate situation, as he delved deeper in my pocket I crushed his fingers even harder. He was larger than me & darker than me & I had the fear, but tried desperately not to show it & just had a moment when we looked at each other right in the eye.

He swore at me and gave in, I had survived with my purple haze intact. I soon caught up with the others, safety in numbers n all
(Baron Greenback Still in Sunny Singapore, Sat 17 Jun 2006, 4:36, Reply)

The Disappointed
i got mugged for a tin of curry and they didn't even take it.
Imagine the scene - Harold Road in Hyde Park, Leeds, on my doorstep and some scallies approach

"ey mate, give us your stuff"

"well... i don't have anything" ( I really didn't, the shop is 100 yards away)

"what's that in your pocket then?"

"it's a tin of curry.."

"don't fuck about mate"

"well... i have nothing to give you"

at which point the friendly neighbourhood crack dealers come out from across the road having heard the altercation... Scally panics, breaks my nose and runs off with his gang.

On a positive note however I did make the WPC's day as up until then it had been - and i quote - "really boring".

No problem.. glad to be of service.

Anyway, to anyone that is thinking of moving to the Hyde Park area, it is really lovely, just don't go too far down the Harold/Thornville way, the 7/7 bombers lived a couple of streets away, and it is a -and i quote again - "crime hotspot"..
Moving to the Hessles in 2 weeks though, woo yay.

edit: I've just noticed a few other stories about Hyde Park on here, I'd just like to repeat what I was saying, it is a lovely place, just avoid Burley Park, Harolds/Thornville area, in fact anywehere past Queen's Road, the park at night is actually quite nice albeit for some harmless vagrants that come and talk to you, and avoid woodhouse, that gets reaaaallly sketchy.
That is all.
(sextuple rooty, Sat 17 Jun 2006, 4:12, Reply)

We're gonna need a bigger boat!
I was walking home one evening when I was grabbed from behind by one of London's finest gangsta wannabes without him even having the common decency to ask me for a smoke or for the time. So I'm struggling like crazy and trying to get lose when one of his arms comes ghosting across me mouth. What the hell, I think? So now gansta is trying to deal with 14 stone of maniac hanging off his arm, thrashing his neck back and forth, rolling his eyes back and twisting from side to side like some demented Great White to his protein rich, newly born seal pup, sidenote but I love the Discovery channel. I had to have a full check up to see if I caught anything nasty and he lost a big fucking chunk of flesh which I almost ended up swallowing in the heat of combat. Not funny but certainly justice.
(mrbastard, Sat 17 Jun 2006, 1:29, Reply)

piston_broke - Yeah, me too...
...in the dead of night I'll walk through parks, along dirt tracks, up alleyways and backstreets and I never meet any trouble, though I do pass the odd individual or group on the way. Mostly what I'd describe as unsavoury types, but they still leave me alone. I've mentioned my outwardly unapproachable demeanour in previous posts - maybe it's that which keeps me safe.

Why do I do this? If I'm feeling macho I'll take the Granny Weatherwax line of 'There's nothing more terrible here than me', but really, I dunno - for some reason I just feel secure in those surroundings, maybe because I can see quite well in the dark - a bit fucked-up, I know but there you go.
(thatblokeoverthere not quite as much an arsehole as I thought, Sat 17 Jun 2006, 0:37, Reply)

Not been mugged
Although I walk through the scariest areas anyone can think of. For example, used to work close shifts at the local Golden Arches. 2AM finishes sometimes. I used to walk home down pitch black canals, never met a soul. People seem to think I'm mad because of this.

But the one time someone tried mugging me... I ended up with an ego the size of a planet after I pushed him off his bike and bent his spokes. I was 9.
( jim_bob can herd cats., Sat 17 Jun 2006, 0:28, Reply)

birmingham muggers are rubbish...
Way back when i was in staying in birmingham with a friend and decided what we really wanted to eat was pizza so off toddle i to find a pizza hut.

My pleasant excursion round the centre of brum was cut short by some dirty scally insisting I give him a smoke. Being the youngster i was i handed one over... and the other he demanded. When he started asking for my wallet I'd had enough and told him to fuck off at which point he revealed a knife and insisted some more. Well, i wasn't gonna hand over my cash and i didn't really want sticking so i negotiated...

"Lead me to pizza hut and leave me in peace with my dinner and he could have whatever was left in my wallet." And he agreed.

As he led me to pizza hut we went past my hotel again and i suddenly 'forgot what what pizza I was supposed to get' and told him I'd 'be right back, just wait there'. So he did. I went up to the bar, ordered a sandwich and a drink and watched him standing there from the landing window... for 20 minutes. After that I got bored and went to bed.
( SubCulture Hero ... ... He... .... Comes ... ...., Sat 17 Jun 2006, 0:11, Reply)

Just remembered one about my Mum (and Satan)...
...from back when I was a kid. We used to have this greyhound, a stray that some breeder had dumped because it was shit at running. For some reason that escapes me now, we named it Satan.

Whilst there are a few stories about what Satan got up to, (maybe one for a 'Pets do the funniest things' thread at some point...?), it's not about him. My mam was walking Satan by a disused canal by the bottom of the park one evening, basically so she could kick the dogshit into the canal. You'd have to smell this canal to know it didn't make any difference at all to the minginess of it.

Evo-Stik was the drug of choice in that neghbourhood back then and gluies were everywhere you couldn't see easily. As my mum followed the canal to the far corner of the park she spotted two of them bagging away on the bank. My mam can handle herself (she'd been teaching Karate to the local urchins with my stepdad for years even then) and is of the show-no-fear school of dealing with lairy types, so she carried on, meaning to pass them without incident. They clocked her, stashed the bags and one of them got up and stood by the path. "Bollocks", she thought, but the show-no-fear policy drove her on.

As she passed, the one on his feet said something to her, and she tells me that she had to ask him to repeat it because she couldn't believe it. She only told me years later that he said 'Give us your purse, you fucking slag.', only with a slur and serious solvent breath. Before he even finished the sentence the second time she backhanded him and put him on his arse back beside his mate. She was stood there, half-a-stance on, hoping that Satan would finally prove useful for something if things got really nasty.

Satan's canine fury was never put to the test, however. The lad who tried it on was near to tears screaming 'What the fuck did you do that for?' and his mate was saying 'I fucking told you to just let her walk past, you tit.'

She said 'Don't let me catch you down here again', more out of mum reflex than anything else and then headed straight home. She was shaking for hours.

I only heard about this one, but I've seen her in action once or twice. She dragged some drunken bitch off me at an xmas do once - the girl was trying to get to my then-gf (yeah, that one), who'd been visibly flirting with her fella. Another time she faced up to a very, very, oh-so-very nasty guy who was after my brother's guts in error - that chap is a story in-and-of himself. After that one, which thankfully didn't come to blows, my mam became the only person on the earth that he seemed to regard with any respect.

I love my mam - she's fuckin' nails :D
(thatblokeoverthere not quite as much an arsehole as I thought, Sat 17 Jun 2006, 0:09, Reply)

I've been mugged about 4 times
the first was in England by a gang. I had to go to hospital for a skull x-ray but it was alright. I got punched in the mouth and it ballooned up. I just kept joking to my mates that I was "not an animal, I'm a human being!"
Another time was on my street in Valencia. Two of them took my mobile and wanted €5 to give it back. I casually laughed as I went back to them and pretending I was going to get my wallet out, I booted the one in the stomach. Shouting my head off at them, I proceeded to kick the shit out of him but he wouldn't let go of my phone. The other one came back with a knife, but cos I was so angry and lashing out at him too, he had my phone in one hand, the knife in the other. He was too scared and simply threw my phone back to me. ;) Aaaarr!
(OnionTerror is a bag full of sick, Sat 17 Jun 2006, 0:05, Reply)

Malcolm
Ironic that this has come up.

My friend Malcolm currently has two black eyes and a broken nose - he's 62!

They didn't take anything, whoever it was just decided to beat the crap out him on his way back from the pub - he's still laughing and joking though.

Not so much funny as sad.
(Lupetherabbit Went straight into smirk mode on, Fri 16 Jun 2006, 23:47, Reply)

Don't mug an old Lady when my Mam is shopping.
My mother, Val I will call her, cos that's her name, is lovely, she is a nice Irish/Welsh Catholic girl from a nice part of Swansea. She is also blessed with the strength of a man and a real good right hook, and she is quite good at using it, as a felon found out to his cost one Christmas a few years ago.
My Mam had just been getting the Chrimbo victuals in Iceland, Swansea, which, as is traditional included a 15 pound frozen turkey, and loads of biscuits in tins. Ahead of her is a little old lady, stuggling with her shopping when a kind yound scumbag decides she would be better off without the weight of her handbag.
The guy runs off toward my Mam, who is incandescent with rage, so she swings for the guy. He ducks the puch, grinning when 15+ punds of frozen poultry and metal tins smacks him right in his dirty grinning Chav face. According to Mam his feet left terra firma, and he did a 360 spin that Tony Hawkes would be proud of, before staggering off, sans purse, some blood and a few teeth.
Only downside was that the biscuits were a bit munted.
(micmac is happy as a pig in shite, Fri 16 Jun 2006, 23:41, Reply)

Don't Mug My Dad
About 15 years ago, my Dad took my Mum to Bath on a daytrip "to see the archetecture" with a group from the campaign for Real Ale, so a lot of the buildings had low ceilings and beer. Anyway, they run out of cash and get themselves to a cashpoint. Now my Dad, semi pissed, is trying to work this cashpoint thingy. My Dad can't set an alarm clock, and as far as he is concerned, the Video is really a practical test set by Aliens to test the intellegence of NASA scientists. He also has, without doubt, the most vile temper of any man I have ever met. So as he is getting more annoyed, enter a foul smelling, skinny, crusty type wearing a Top Hat and with a dog on a string, and said to my Dad, by now just holding on to his temper, cos of the frustration of being unable to get more beer vouchers and with a line of tutting English and Americans behind him, "Give us some money Mr, or I will throw up on you"
My Dad whirls around, reaches up and grabs this guy my his neck and screams "If you don't fuck off you miserable streak of shit, I will really give something to fucking throw up about!" in an enraged broad Swansea accented scream.
The guy, faced with 5 feet 4 inches of semi insane pissed Welsh ex-seaman shits himself and fucks off. When My Dad turns around, there is my mam pissing herself laughing and, even better no queue! All the tourists having split as well!
He then screams "Val! Work this fucking machine, it wont give me my fucking money!" Val, still chuckling, does as she is told. Upshot is, Dad Gets beer vouchers, and a lovley day is had by all.
(micmac is happy as a pig in shite, Fri 16 Jun 2006, 23:30, Reply)