Quick pint?

Move and weave, feint to the head, perfectly placed shin kick to his opponent’s leg. Hearing the sharp intake of breath as his shin connects with soft tissue, Heart rate quickens, breathing shallows the fight is on. Pain filled his eyes. The instructor shouts “time”. The smell of sweat is overwhelming cutting at the back of their throats hindering the oxygen supply. The class lined up, bowed out and started to get changed.

Two of the students decided to have a quick pint in a nearby pub. The place looked ok, quite nice actually must have been newly decorated. Still hyped from a good session we discussed martial arts and anything remotely related to martial arts. We were going all the time at that point, five classes a week and training in our free time. Sitting at the bar we could see the whole pub. Not my normal type of place a bit to bright and the drinks expensive. The more I studied the place, the more I recognised. AKEA look.

My training partner had bumped into an old, dare I say friend. The guy was a complete idiot. Karate black belt he said. Don’t get me wrong he was fit and pretty strong looking but his attitude sucked. All he went on about was this guys ass that he had kicked that guy etc. I was bored, and then a noticed a group of guys walk in. It was one of those funny moments when you could almost be in a gangster movie. Dressed in long leather coats they ranged in size. From small to huge, go figure the brains and the muscle. I looked away and paid no more attention.

One of the guys approached the bar where we were standing, He smiled at my training partner flicked the burning cigarette into the air, the final resting place was my friends eye just as sudden his right hand fist clenched followed the line as the cigarette before it. His right hand connected with johns Head. Momentarily stunned john fell back. The thug looking motherfucker was standing Wright next to me at this point. Without thinking my hand connected with his cheek, not giving him time to hit John again. Shit, fuck complete crap, without knowing it I had just raised the stakes of this game. Without realising I still had a glass of Edinburgh’s finest ale in my hand. I had connected with a great shot until the glass shattered cutting my hand and ripping his face to shreds. The vast quantity of blood was instant squirting from his face. Without hesitation they attacked. We were well past a good conversation. In but a blink of an eye peace had turned to survival.

The next thing I realised I was on the floor surrounded by thugs kicking at me. I managed to get to my knees and struck the closest with all my force. Bullseye he dropped like lead. Does not matter how big you are one shot to the cock your going down. Trying to get my bearings I spotted john he was punching the big guy so hard I am sure his feet were of the ground. Something sliced my back. Panicked I just started hitting anyone this was the first time I truly felt I was fighting for my life. So much for fucking four years of training. I was being hit from so many directions; every time I connected another guy seemed to appear. A moments rest, they seemed to re-group. Johns head was soaking in blood my shirt was the same. Almost in slow motion I noticed the bar was empty and everything was broken. The pub was smashed to bits. The police had been standing outside at the window watching the fight. I had remembered seeing them half way into it and wishing they would help. Waiting for back up the situation looked too dangerous. Throw the confusion and haze we realised the group had took of or so we thought. We were the last men standing. Then johns mate papered from the female toilets, cheers. Fucking wanker.

The police rushed in, bit late lads I thought, or maybe it was more like, where the fuck have you been you fucking pigs, getting picked on I presume. They grabbed john and I and I remember the bar manager saying” they did not start it” and I just kept repeating, my sticks our in my bag I did not use them. I was referring to the wooden sticks in my bag, wish I had used them. Once everyone took stock of the situation the police seemed concerned about our wounds. One of the officers took john and I to the bathroom to get something to soak up the blood. As I stepped into the toilet area the guy I had glassed lunged for me pushing the cop out of the way. He was screaming “your dead mother fucker, your fucking dead meat” he was restrained quickly. I made the naive assumption that justice prevails, I remember saying. “I will give a statement “ to which I got the response from the police. “Look, we no who that are they wouldn’t turn up for court even if we did arrest them,” as he ushered john and I to the ambulance. The system sucks.

Sitting in the white room, a buzz of student doctors. Wounds from a bar fight they seemed excited, so much so you would think they had orchestrated the whole affair. A pretty nurse was cleaning my wounds. John was in the next stall. Stitches in my head and back once the students had poked around we waited for the doctor to do the stitches. Sitting alone contemplating the last hour, bright white, dizzinging lights and the distinct hospital smell. The pain and stiffness settling in as the adrenaline made its escape. Feeling bashed and bruised and very sorry for my self. Was it my fault?

The doctor finished the stitches to my back and head and said he would be back, sitting alone the shock had set in, a horrible moment, which was just about to get worse. A black skanky looking whore burst into my cubicle. Your fucking dead you’re fucking dead as she ran screaming for her friends. The gang of lads had entered the hospital; this time they wanted us dead for sure, packing heat this was not a dress rehearsal. The doctor had appeared shouting as I tried to get to john. “You must leave you must leave, use the fire exit” I could not believe what I was hearing from a doctor, johns stitches were not even finished. Flooded with adrenaline once more we headed for the door. The hospital gardens then a road, a taxi, “take us to Leith”. What the fuck was going on what planet had I been on tonight. This was a new world to me and I did not like it. We sat in john’s kitchen, safe unable to sleep. Was this over? No, we had to leave the city.


A local gang as we found out later, in the pub to extort and ply their trade. I had unknowingly mutilated the face of their leader. His partners had surrounded us in a flash, no whistle, no gloves no calling of time. Seven well in fairness six now. John had regained full control only to realise we were going to have to fight for our lives. The battle that ensued was by far the scariest moments of my life. We had stumbled on a world that we did not understand, but with that said that world did not understand us. We don’t live in their world so we can’t follow their rules.