Leave It... He's Not Worth It!

So we're out on the town, ... well, city to be precise... well, Cardiff to be exact.

It was a works leaving do. Not normally the sort of thing I'd go on but the girl who was leaving was a friend and some the people who were going out are good company, so I figured what the heck. The problem was the others. The ones who are the main reason why I don't go out on these sort of night.

In one camp you have the lads, Hair gel so thickly ladled on that their heads are in danger of being classified as rock formations, still young enough to think they can handle their drink (Bacardi Breezers *tossers*) and still attractive enough to think they can pull anything that takes their fancy. In the other camp you have the girls. Hair spiked, tossed, curled, straightened, coloured, primped and sprayed; make-up layered; bottle of Vodka hidden in the handbag. These girls are almost wearing clothing that would make a monk howl at the moon, and they're drunk... so very, very drunk.

Enter a group of lads, rugby players possibly judging by the size of them, valley cowboys defintely judging by the clothes and the accents, that and the fact that they have about six teeth between the four of them. These boys are not pretty, but that doesn't stop them trying it on with our girls. There's a bit of flirting going on but it's clear that the girls are just toying with them, the phrase "gopping" is whispered once or twice.

But these lads have got it in to their heads that they're on to a good thing here, even once the girls have tired of playing with them they continue to try it on with an admirable persistance that only the drunk and deperately horny can display. One of the rugby lads grabs one of the girls and swings her round and she loses it... big time.

"Fuck off you wanker" she screams in his face (classy girl, convent school you know)' " I wouldn't snog you or one of your disgusting mates if you paid me!" There's more shouting, more screaming, a bit of pushing. The words troll, greasy and hideous float our way.

Just as this lad seems to be reaching a scarlet-faced, bulging-eyed peak of fury one of our younger boys tries to diffuse the situation;

All right boys"' he says, "no need to get ugly...."

There's a silence as we take in what he's just said - and then we piss ourselves laughing.

A punch is thrown but the bouncers soon sort it out and the Valley Boys are on their way. Our lad is sat down nursing a bloody nose.

"What the fuck was that for?" I heard him say.

He'll learn!