Wednesday, 30 June 2010

Time Ladies Please

The idyllic and peaceful Northern town I drive through often has a reputation. Not all is what it seems. It has a reputation for a good scrap.

Last week it was the turn of the ladies. Forty of them. From neighbouring towns, bashing seven bells out of each other. "I was sitting in the club drinking my pint when I heard a noise," said one of my passengers. "I looked down and what a sight. All these women screaming and punching. Aye there was blood on the pavements. There was blood on the pavements the day after too."

So is this unusual behaviour in 2010? Not really. You have to look at the history of the place. When their past revolves around Romans, Border Reivers and Coalmining there is bound to be a feisty side to them.

"Aye," said the pensioner behind me wistfully, "those were the days. Several years ago I was in my car when some men came up and wanted a fight. One tried to pull me out of the car, so I closed the window, shutting his fingers in the the process and drove off. That'll teach yer I says." He laughed and did not seem overly concerned about the antics of the women.

"Aye they've got black bottoms, you know," an elderly lady joined in the conversation. All the other passengers sat bolt upright and listened more attentively.

"The women have got what?" asked another man."Black bottoms?"

"No not the women, man. Me tomatoes," she replied. "It must be the hot weather."

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