PUNCH! IN THE FACE!
Who's been punched? Proper hoofing roundhouse punched, in the FACE?

Unfortunately, through a combination of bad luck and stupidity, I've been hardmanned to fuck quite a few times as an adult.

I am not hard. Like any good QOTWer I am over six foot and, ahem, heavily built. But I am resolutely soft as fuck. It took several confrontations, culminating in the one I'm about to describe, to realise that getting all up in people's business is not a wise move if you're soft as fuck.

Like (I suspect) a lot of young men, for a long time I longed to be hard. I watched all the Rocky films, lifted weights, and in crowded pubs I would cast steely glares at those I felt had slighted me or my companions. Lots of 'no, YOU fuck off or I'll batter you ya cuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuunt' etc etc etc. In retrospect, it wasn't a pleasant look, and was made all the more ridiculous by the fact that in all likelihood I would never batter anyone. I was the worst kind of tough guy – a well brought-up fraud, posing and mouthing off. My own small contribution to Broken Britain.

Cut to the land of the free … Middlesbrough! Oh, glorious Middlesbrough. My heart beats for thee. I grew up not far from this delightful town, and when I was about 20 I went for my final night out there (although I didn't know it at the time).
Things were going well. I was in a club with my two best friends, we were dancing like joyous elves in bad shirts, and a lady in a tight brown dress was letting me finger her on the dancefloor. YES! I got so carried away with excitement that halfway through Bon Jovi's 'Living on a Prayer' I clambered up onto a nearby stage, and with much grace and enthusiasm hurled myself bodily into the air with an almighty 360º strum of my air guitar. Splat! Right back onto the dancefloor sending revellers scattering.

Picked myself up and dusted myself off, only to see that I was surrounded by a tight-knit semicircle of five young men. I couldn't hear their remonstrations over the music, but could tell by their faces that they didn't like me. No matter. I'm hard as fuck, remember.

"FUCK OFF YOU CUNNNNNNTTTTTTSSS! I"LL FUCKING DO ALL OF YAAAAAAAAA!"

For those of you lucky enough to have never been totally and mercilessly sucker punched right in the fucking ear, let me explain how it feels. Imagine it's an icy cold day. Your face is freezing, your ears are red, and someone kicks a heavy basketball from about five feet away right into the side of your stupid fucking head.

For the second time in ten seconds, I found myself lying down on the dancefloor.

After a few confusing moments I managed to gather myself together and stagger out of there, into the foyer where the bouncers congregated. Holding my head, I demanded satisfaction. "Some CUNT just sucker punched me! Get him out here! I'm going to fucking have him!"
Dutifully, and with a wry smile, one of the bouncers who'd seen the lot went and explained the situation to my assailant. A minute later, he was bounding out into the foyer to meet me. The bouncers stood round like betters at a cock fight. "Go on then lads, have it out."

Moments like that can be very edifying. I had peers who never would have dreamed of even going into this club, let alone getting themselves into the situation I was currently in. But I was a prick. Full of shit. And thoroughly deflated by the realisation that here I had a chance to actually prove I was hard, and in actual fact I was just scared as fuck.

My 'opponent' let out a mighty roar, and in true hulk style ripped his shirt off to reveal a body that had clearly been honed through years of strenuous physical activity and hardship. I looked and felt like an accountant. I had thoroughly embarrassed myself. I muttered something along the lines of "forget it, fucking hell, I just wanted an apology," and sloped off to catch a bus. My opponent casually put his shirt back on and went inside the club. Probably to fuck the girl I'd pulled.

Bastard.
( Wet-chinned bag shanker Cannot parse Wogan, Fri 25 Mar 2011, 16:57, 16 replies)

Sounds like every night in Middlesbrough.
Wasn't Club Bongo International by any chance?
(TheColonel, Fri 25 Mar 2011, 17:33, closed)

nope!
If I remember rightly it was called Madisons. Only went the once ...
( Wet-chinned bag shanker Cannot parse Wogan, Fri 25 Mar 2011, 18:11, closed)

Have a click for your honesty in recounting this tale of woe.

( number5 has been fighting tramps and losing., Fri 25 Mar 2011, 18:55, closed)

^
this
( enoughblueskyforsailorstrousers, Fri 25 Mar 2011, 19:47, closed)

^

( Ugi , it's a game of give and cake, Tue 29 Mar 2011, 15:34, closed)

Yep
That was me. You reminded me of Sock from Reaper. We were both twatted and went no where near 'girl', far too fat.

Live to love another day.....
(Suck it and Sea, Fri 25 Mar 2011, 19:54, closed)

Top marks for honesty
I'm still in the denial, wannabe hard man phase myself. It's comfortable.
(impossibly witty twat No, YOUR Mum etc etc, Fri 25 Mar 2011, 22:57, closed)

It is comfortable.
Hospitals and prison cells, however, are not.
( Wet-chinned bag shanker Cannot parse Wogan, Sat 26 Mar 2011, 8:55, closed)

i love this
have several clicks!
( rachelswipe with a fork, Sat 26 Mar 2011, 9:47, closed)

Time to revive the b3ta Tall Cowards' Club, I think...
b3ta.com/questions/fakingit/post200444
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Sat 26 Mar 2011, 9:50, closed)

Sign me up
6'2, about 85kgs and reasonably well built, but soft as melted shite. The worst thing is having glasses. If I've got my contacts in and I'm backed into a corner, I suppose that I'd have a go, but with my glasses on? No way. I'd fold faster than Superman on laundry day. I can't see shit without them. Thing is, I know that first punch they'd fly off and then I'd be scrabbling round on the floor, telling people not to move so that they don't stand on them. Hardly a way to strike fear into the hearts' of pikeys.

Doesn't stop me from having a REALLY stupid habit though. Whenever I see fights in bars and clubs, I always try and break them up. I've no idea why. Never been punched cos of it, but very nearly been thrown out and just last week I got bled on profusely. I don't know these people, I just think that if, as soon as a fight started, everyone in the club pulled the pugilists apart and calmed them down then the world would be a better place.

Never mind

*Edit* Just scrolled the rest of the way down that thread and found the badge. What must one do to become an official member? Attempt to bully a child then run away screaming when they slap you round the ankles?
( kappynitty doubled your entendre on, Sat 26 Mar 2011, 10:47, closed)

Naaah.
Just click it to get to b3tards, then copy the URL into your profile.
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Sat 26 Mar 2011, 12:44, closed)

oh. ok then. so I'm not allowed within 500m of any local primary schools for no reason then.
other than, y'know, the paedoing.
( kappynitty doubled your entendre on, Sat 26 Mar 2011, 14:37, closed)

Glasses - check. Scrabbling - check.
Had that happen once. My glasses were punched off and I bent over to search for them on the floor. Just as I did this the gatecrashing ned took a swipe at me with a knife, leaving me with a nice slash across the back of my neck. That was the last house party I ever threw.
( SteamedCleaner, Sun 27 Mar 2011, 3:54, closed)

house party I ever threw time I had mum round for dinner.

sorry, couldn't resist
( Wet-chinned bag shanker Cannot parse Wogan, Mon 28 Mar 2011, 15:32, closed)

I am now a member!
*nervous high fives*
( Wet-chinned bag shanker Cannot parse Wogan, Sun 27 Mar 2011, 11:05, closed)