Lairy ladies

Violence among women is something I’ve never actually witnessed.  I’m blissfully innocent of situations where alcohol-fuelled tempers flare and it’s handbags at dawn.

Only these days, the trend seems to be less handbags and more knives or glasses or even, not so long ago, a stilletto heel in the eye. To be frank, it’s all got a bit nasty.

There was a case in our local paper recently about a young law student out on the lash in some bar who took exception to another woman and head-butted her in the face.

A head-butt. It made me think what sort of woman would resort to a head butt? How could that possibly be an instinctive thing for a woman to do? What kind of background does she have, this law student who uses her own head to injure another person? Does she really have more testosterone than oestrogen?

For a start, a headbutt must be painful to the perpetrator as well as the victim, so on that count alone I can’t see that it’s a good idea.

“Imagine that,” I said to DT man. “Using my head to hurt someone else. It’s an alien concept. It would be like me trying to use my head to open a tin of beans. “

“Ok, what would you do if you’d had a few and some woman say, deliberately burned your brand-new jacket with her cigarette?”

I had a think. I would complain to the manager that she should be barred.

“No, physically what would you do?”

I decided I might stamp on her toe. If one of those disgusting sticky blue cocktails was to hand, I might pour it into her handbag.

If I was really furious and a supermarket shopping trolley was to hand, I might ram it into the back of her heel. That’s quite vicious and painful. A couple of other shoppers have done it to me, over the years. Partly my fault, admittedly, as I am prone to suddenly stopping and changing direction without indicating.

But thumping with fists or my head just wouldn’t occur to me.

I’ve never understood the stereotypical womens’ fights involving grappling, nail scratching and hair pulling either.

I would be inclined to say “Good grief, she’s never worth it. You’ve just had your nails done and can’t possibly ruin those nice hair extensions.”

A stilletto heel as a weapon doen’t particularly surprise me. I would expect women to grab and wield the nearest weapon rather than go for hand-to-hand combat.  I remember one woman who was on trial for causing gbh to a former boyfriend was eliciting considerable sympathy with her story about lashing out at him in terror when she saw him walking down her garden path.

The sympathy evaporated somewhat when it transpired that instead of just fleeing inside the house and slamming the door in the face, she went into the house to fetch a convenient hammer and promptly cracked his head with it.  The jail term was short.

Anecdotally, incidents of violence from women against women are increasing, which surprises me. Surely women are far better at the premeditated revenge thing than just lashing out with bare fists?

We’ve all read examples of the dish that’s best served cold, where she shreds his clothes with pinking shears and flings them on to the lawn; or the burning pyre of his belongings on the mistress’s driveway; the neighbour dispute where ‘er’ next door is studying herbal poisons to see off her nuisance neighbour’s cats.

Not that I can really imagine doing any of those things either. When it comes to being wronged my responses are purely verbal.

On Gold Cup day recently (Cheltenham National Hunt Festival) it was raining so I had my umbrella up and was passing Wetherspoons pub, heading to the post office with an armful of letters when I got unexpectedly hit on the head and arm from behind.

I turned wondering what the hell was going on, to see a young guy – Wetherspoons employee – had just come out of the pub behind me carrying a stack of four chairs. He’d obviously caught me with the legs of the chairs which were sticking out in front of him,

“Hey! You should take more care with those!” I told him.

“Oh sorry about that,” he apologised and took them somewhere around the side of the building.  I thought “Bloody idiot”  and walked on.

My head and arm were sore but nothing to worry about. It was only later that I realised my head was bleeding a bit and my arm was scratched, bleeding and bruised.

Later, back at work, a colleague said I should have made a formal complaint to the management and maybe got a voucher for a Wetherspoons meal.  I’d honestly rather starve than eat there and anyway, as I told her, it was a simple accident.

I was passing just as he was coming down the steps on to the pavement with the chairs. I didn’t see him because of the umbrella; he was rushed and careless.  It was just lucky for him that I wasn’t that law student or she might have felled him with a Kirkby Kiss.

Author: janh1

Part-time hedonist.

17 thoughts on “Lairy ladies”

  1. Well there is violence and violence isn’t there?
    Low class common assault in bars between women is pretty unedifying all round.
    But I do assure you there is a great deal of satisfaction in stone cold sober physical retribution against malefactors.
    Personally I prefer weaponry of any kind, my favourite was a thin lead pipe loaded with sand one end, gave excellent results! But I really don’t mind which weapons.
    Given it all up in my old age.
    Now I restrain my violence to pruning some poor hapless bush, spousal unit swears I am ruthless, he’s right. (especially with the pruning shears!)

  2. Good blog, jan. I haven’t witnessed too much female violence, although when I worked at the Institute of Metals two of my young female colleagues had a full-on physical fight over some gormless young man who worked in the mailroom. I get the impression that not too much of that kind of thing goes on round here … must ask my daughter, who was at a nightclub last night.

    On the subject of Cheltenham and women, I watched the jockeys Katie Walsh and Nina Carberry on a chat show last night … they had a 1-2 in one of the races, and Walsh also won the other race she rode in … not bad considering she went to Cheltenham as a spectator!

    Good role models, I reckon.

  3. Jan, we’re shocked because we didn’t grow up in barbaric conditions ourselves. Eighteen months ago I witnessed a drunken brawl on a flight to England – three Irish ‘ladies’ disgreed violently in mid-air. The crew were obviously trained to deal with them and did so.

  4. Well then

    The lady that suggested that you complain and get a ‘meal voucher’ is what people like myself think that Britain has become, well done, accidents happen!

    In all my years drinking and having fights arguments in pubs I can’t for the life of me remember two cherries going at it, it’s obvious;y a rare occasion here, could you catch the next one on your cellphone please?

  5. Ah; Jan! I’ve said it before an’ I’ll say it again; Wimmin – or hormonally challenged ones – and W(h)ine do not a pretty pair make…
    It’s just something I’ve observed. In Leeds, I once watched a heavily pregant woman fall out of the SLug and Lettuce on to the road, mid brawl with another woman. And came across a bloodied forty something desperate housewife wandering around Leeds city centre in a daze, having quite forgotten who she was or how she got there.
    Then again, the men were not much better; dancing/peeing in public fountains, climbing on busstops, mooning on monuments…
    I wasn’t exactly a saint either, but my drunken antic were mild, comparatively speaking, and extended to falling asleep in a night club, or ahem, the Scanty Panties Blunder.
    Well at least I never ended up wearing them on my head. 😉

  6. I forget. Scanty Panties was Liverpool. Unless I have somehow inadvertently left a trail. Oh no; doesn’t bear thinking about

  7. I saw two ladies have a disagreement once, got a bit nasty I can tell you, an ambulance had to be called, they were both taken to hospital with sore throats.

  8. Agh: I luckily have never witnessed such behaviour, Jan. There have to be some advantages to living in Henley on Thames. I dare say it happens, but had you pursued your “claim” against Wetherspoons, I dare say you would have witnessed more of the same.

    Only a guess, with which daughter Number Two will take issue. She worked for them for some months and since she is a registered Door Person, albeit lapsed of a Certain London Borough, she would have dealt with it in two ticks of a thingy.

  9. I’ve never seen grown women fighting, but I have seen an increase in schoolgirls fights. In a way that’s not saying much, because I had never seen them until recently, despite teaching in some tough inner London comprehensives. But I do find a gaggle of schoolgirls, evidently high on adrenalin, pushing two protagonists together, in the middle of a busy shopping street, deeply disturbing.

  10. Janh – I give you a quality bit of writing from “The Lord Flasheart”, a blogger on another (military) site.

    I was at the stage that I wanted to spark her out there and then on the spot. Luckily, the bit of totty I was with took the lead and stepped in. She walked over having heard the general gist of the conversation, grabbed the ugly lezza by the throat and lobbed the nut on her. Quality bird (Swiss finishing school and all that), but as hard as calculus.

    OZ

  11. God, Christina, the thought of you armed and dangerous sends a nervous shiver down my spine! 🙂

    Hi Brendano, yes it was good to see the women jockeys excelling on such a tough course. It’s taken a while but they are starting to make a mark – and no skirmishes in the unsaddling enclosure!

    Yes Janus – must be a nightmare on a flight when a fight kicks off next to you. Nowhere to go to avoid it! Appalling lack of dignity for all involved. 🙂

  12. Soutie, let me get it clear, you want me to video happy slappers on my phone?! :-0

    Hi Claire. Sounds lively ooop there in Leeds. I remember a case from Llanelli where a woman walking home from a pub was attacked by a bride – still in her big white dress but completely off her face. The groom had to pull her away. 🙂

    Oh v amusing OMG 😀

  13. O Zangado :

    Janh – I give you a quality bit of writing from “The Lord Flasheart”, a blogger on another (military) site.

    I was at the stage that I wanted to spark her out there and then on the spot. Luckily, the bit of totty I was with took the lead and stepped in. She walked over having heard the general gist of the conversation, grabbed the ugly lezza by the throat and lobbed the nut on her. Quality bird (Swiss finishing school and all that), but as hard as calculus.

    I didn’t know that you followed that site. Ex forces?

    OZ

  14. As long as the men gets feminine, women gets more masculin. It’s one of the ugliest thing I can think of women fighting like that, like men.
    And I’m telling you Jan, you are very wrong with head-butt thing. Forehead to nose. Ouchh.

  15. Well perish the very thought that there should be such behaviour at Henley, Araminta. 😉 Cheltenham has two sides. The dark underbelly becomes apparent at about 1am and it is deeply unattractive.

  16. Hi Isobel – so more anectodal evidence then! I think it’s only a matter of time before some alarmist report is published showing female violent crime figures have increased.

  17. Thanks OZ! Quality writing indeed. Oooh rough women. They make me nervous. 🙂

    You might have a point there, Levent. Oh I always thought a head-butt would be forehead to forehead, like those big-horned sheep. My mistake! 😀

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