Dayna
Imagine yourself in the middle of a dance floor, surrounded by a large
crowd of boogying half drunk 20 year old women, enjoying one of the few
occasions when the nightclub is more or less at their disposal for a
bloody good birthday celebration with some good company. Did I say good
company? Well almost- there's always the ones who want to piss on your
parade aren't there?
The pissers I am referring to on this particular
evening last February, consisted of a dozen hormone-crazed local lads
who were (un)steadily making their way towards my friends and myself,
nostrils filled with the scent of fresh meat, and virtually frothing at
the mouth. Surrounding us in the unusual but effective 'human wall'
formation, the lads were attempting to herd us women into the centre of
them like some kind of farmers market.
Aware of this ridiculous maneuver, I took charge of the situation by
using the 'dance-through-them-with-elbow-attack' method, thereby
breaking their ranks. These guys were not quite so easily dissuaded,
however, and some minutes later one of them decided the direct and
personal approach would win him favour- so downing his drink, rallying a
couple of the younger lads for support, and snorting like a hog, the
poor excuse for a man shimmied up to me and rubbed his groin up and down
the side of my body in time with the music like some kind of writhing
horny dog. I figure- what the hell I'll give a warning shot first, and
so slammed him against the wall whilst pointing my finger at his face
and saying loudly and sternly- "NO". It always worked with my dog.
Apparently this guy was not as bright as Charlie-dog, because ten
minutes later he was at it again. This time Ms Autopilot took the
controls, I only warn once and that's if I'm being charitable- against
the wall he went and quick as a flash my knee collided with the small
collection of soft objects he had dangling in his trousers. Holding his
shoulders fast against the wall to prevent him sliding onto the floor
and out of earshot- "Steady there," I calmly instructed, "brace
yourself, you can do it." As he took his own weight again I stood back
and addressed his disbelieving group of friends- "Now that's what you
get when you don't listen," I said, "and remember- if you decide to
inflict your body-parts on my personal space, then you are taking a
fucking big risk with that body-part."
I look back on that incident fondly- it marks one of the first violent
physical manifestations of my female rage. Why wait so long to act on
it? you ask. Well the answer to that is- I guess no-one had the guts to
try it on with me like that before, I tend to give off an assertive
vibe.
The part that REALLY pissed me off though, is that no-one else stuck up
for themselves that night! My friend Jane has her breasts grabbed a
number of times for example, and did nothing but move away! Now, I can
put up with some horniness in dingy nightclubs, I can look back and
chuckle at the lame and insulting attempts some guys make to coerce you
into 'getting them out', but I can't help but NOT BE SURPRISED at the
low-life behaviour I encountered in that club like that of my friend
Idiot-Groin, when women DON'T DO A THING ABOUT IT. That's what really
got me- the idiot-girls, the scared-girls, the BLAND BLAND GIRLY GIRLS
who rely on men for protection, and run around like headless chickens or
sit in the corner and cry when they are finally forced to deal with life
themselves.
To be honest, if you don't accept me as a member, I really don't know
where I'm ever going to find other women like me. LET ME IN!!
Country: England
Yes! I want to read more from Real Life Heartless Bitches
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