“Just Because You’re British”


Gibber of former Gibber Jabberin’ fame (you can see where she *used* to blog here) commented on my post Carried Away that she had a scary alcohol story. Since you can see that her blog is now defunct, I asked her to do a guest post. Please feel free to tell you how much you miss her and beg her to return to blogging. Maybe she’ll listen to you good people because she sure as hell won’t listen to me…

It was a Saturday night and the girls had all gathered to get ready for our night out on the town. There was excitement in the air. We were doing what girls do before they go out for a night on the town.  Curling irons flipped on, make up all over the bathroom counter. Our clothes were spread out on the bed so we could all decide what looked best on us.  

British accents were all over the place. You see, I was one of only 2 Canadians amongst a group of British nannies that had come over to Canada to work. I really didn’t hear their accents anymore since I spent a lot of time with them. I may have even had a bit of one myself.

This Saturday night while it seems at first glance like any other Saturday night on the town, it wasn’t.  We knew it wasn’t, but we didn’t know just how different it would turn out.

We were all in our 20’s so it took us a while to get ready. I don’t know why it mattered so much since bars are dark anyway, but it did. We all hopped into a car where my Canadian friend’s boyfriend sat behind the steering wheel. The only guy with us. Poor guy!

We hit the road, the road to Buffalo, New York. We were crossing the border from Ontario to party. 

Harmless right?!

I don’t remember how long the drive was, but eventually we arrived with no glitches at our bar of choice. We parked and headed in to dance our crazy butts off!

Now there’s something you should know about me. I was 19. I hadn’t yet done any drinking. I just didn’t. In Canada, I was of age to do so. In the US you had to be 21.

So I danced, and danced. I like dancing if you haven’t figured that out already. Could you guess, that doing all that dancing might lead one to get thirsty? I’ll bet you could.

Drinks were 2 for 1. Someone offered me one of their drinks. It was a long island ice tea. I thought it was only iced tea since we were all under age. It was a huge drink, and I downed it because of the aforementioned thirst. It was loaded with whatever alcohol they add to long island ice teas.

Guess what I did next? 

I danced and I danced some more, until the end of the night was upon us.

Our gang regrouped and we headed outside in the cold crisp air. That’s when that long island ice tea hit me, and hit me hard. I was so drunk I could hardly stand up. Well I really couldn’t. I think a couple of my friends were holding me up.

Just outside the bar was a hot dog stand. The only guy with us decided he was hungry. How perfect since there was a hotdog stand right there. He bought his hot dog turned around and a stranger out of nowhere said to him and I quote, “Give me your hotdog.” He and we were all a little stunned. He said, “What?” The guy didn’t ask again he just punched our friend hard in the face twice and I if I remember correctly took his hotdog. 

Our friend’s girlfriend jumped in front of her boyfriend to confront the attacker. Probably not the smartest thing to do, but you never know how you’re going to react when in a serious situation, and you have shock and adrenaline running through your system.

I’ll get back to my friend in a minute. Here’s where I need to tell you where I was at. I was so drunk I was laughing my head off. I knew the situation was serious but I wasn’t able to get serious because as I mentioned earlier, I hadn’t drank before. The alcohol possessed me. My friends were trying to get me to shut up and act “normal.” I could only keep laughing. I still couldn’t stand on my own. Part of me now, is glad I was drunk. Not the part that caused me to make the situation more dangerous than it was, but the part of me that would have been terrified had I been sober.

Okay back to the girlfriend. I left her standing in front of her boyfriend confronting the attacker. The attacker was gearing up to beat her up. He was ready to throw a punch. It was crazy scary. All of a sudden the attacker and his gang turned around and ran away. I was told that a police car had driven up.

You can bet we high tailed it to our car and got on the road out of there. Our friend was hurting but okay. He drove home. The others were just in pure shock and fear. 

I was still drunk.

We were very lucky. As bad as the whole situation was, if that cop hadn’t of come it would have been much worse. We likely would have been killed. I know this because we found out a week later, that 4 girls were killed in that same area by some similar appearing men that matched the description of our attacker and his friends that left notes on their bodies saying, “Just because you’re British.”

I won’t say I never made any other stupid choices over the years after that, but I will say I never again crossed the border to party.


88 thoughts on ““Just Because You’re British”

  1. What a scary story, Gibber. You’ve had quite a life that needs to find its way back into blogging, because, hell, we need you!

    And to kill someone (or hassle them or deport them) just because they’re __________? WTF is going on in the heads of some people??????

    Thanks for convincing her to write it, VD!

    Liked by 3 people

  2. “We likely would have been killed. I know this because we found out a week later, that 4 girls were killed in that same area by some similar appearing men that matched the description of our attacker and his friends that left notes on their bodies saying, ‘Just because you’re British.’ ” – Whoa, that is really chilling. So glad you all made it back safe.

    Liked by 2 people

  3. Holy crap that is scary! Glad to know you got away safe and sound…

    Also, on a(n) (un)related note, the rise of Donald Trump on the wings of xenophobia and misdirected nationalism is going to make these stories scarier and more frequent still.

    Liked by 4 people

  4. You got mugged in Buffalo, NY? How long ago? If you want, I could maybe find those guys and take care of it for you. Stealing hot dogs? I can think of a way to make sure they’d never want a hot dog again (I’m sure that Victo, with her advanced medical knowledge, could advise me as to the perfect placement).

    Sorry, hearing about someone getting attacked in my town riles me up, especially someone who isn’t from here. Sure, we all make fun of Canadians (as they make fun of us), but attacking someone because of their accent just isn’t cool. I suspect those guys probably had an “accent” of their own (inner city, maybe?).

    Now that I have that out of my system – please come back to the blogosphere, Gibber. We all miss you.

    (Or if you still can’t come back all the way, how about coming over and doing a guest post for me, too? Please? I could send you some coupons to Ted’s for the next time you come here and crave a hot dog.)

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Border towns, I tell ya. Gotta watch out. Sure glad you survived that bacchalan incident, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to write a guest post for my blog. Oh yeah, I’m getting in line, too, right behind cordeliasmom. And with all these bloggers lining up, you may as well just give up and start a blog of your own.

    Liked by 3 people

  6. OMG, what a great tale and you should keep blogging even as a guest.
    This brought back memories. When I was young sooooo many years ago, we drove to Buffalo to continue drinking because the bars were open until four. In Rochester, they closed at two. So you got a bottle, or six pack…. and other things…, and headed up and party and drove back….a hour on the thruway….. BOMBED!!! At the wee hours of the morning.What were we thinking?

    Liked by 2 people

  7. Gibber: Holding up my hand as well if you’d like to do a guest post. I’m thinking something along the lines of my “Past Imperfect” series, wherein I lovingly send you a vintage photo and you come up with a story to go with it. Please consider. Victo: Is there anybody in the blogosphere that you DON’T know personally? Sheesh. (P.S. Now that our cover is blown and the conspiracy is a known thing, does this mean that we no longer need to have our secret meetings to lure the subject back, otherwise known as “Operation Gibber Nabber”? Please advise using your encoded transponder ring. Oh wait, maybe I shouldn’t have actually mentioned that HERE….)

    Liked by 2 people

    • Our work is not done until she opens her blog again, never fear! We may continue the clandestine meetings if only to still have an excuse to use those snazzy decoder rings! I love your Past Imperfect series. I hope Gibber agrees to do it!

      Liked by 1 person

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  9. Wow. This is indeed a scary experience. Glad you were safe, and so sorry to hear about the other girls who were killed by the hate mongerers…

    On another note, dear Victo Dolore, I have been an ardent reader (and commenter) on your blog for a while now – although under a different name. I decided to take the plunge and get to blogging for myself! Since I do not have the courage to use my own name, or the creativity to carve a pseudonym for myself, I have started blogging under the nom de plume of my blog. I hope, someday, to be able to write even half as poignant and touching posts as you do!

    Med Utopia

    Liked by 2 people

  10. Your story telling is suburb! It’s odd to look back on the young and stupid choices we made. Perspectives change! And having children of our own change the way we look at them, too! Some I still laugh about and others not so much….like the time my friend and I mooned a couple guys in a truck, were chased, and police helicopters got involved….definitely not as funny today as it was then.

    So happy you all ended up safe in the end. Also happy we got to read you!

    Liked by 2 people

  11. I’m sorry for your drunken state but I feel worse for the guy punched. Have you ever been mugged? It stays with you a long, long time. You feel weak. That it happened in front of his girlfriend makes it worse. Thank God you’re all alive.

    I have made my feelings know to Ms. Gibber but she prefers to break my (our) heart. What can you do? Lay down on a subway track?

    Liked by 2 people

  12. Well Gibber, the story was a good one. it was a narrow escape and thank God for the police. I have not known about you writing ability but it’s excellent and for Pete’s sake if you’ve got all these fans surely that should be an inspiration to begin blogging again. I sincerely hope that you do, so all your fans are appeased. Thanks for a funny but terrifying read.

    Best regards,
    Yvonne Daniel

    Liked by 2 people

  13. I can’t believe this guy was really about to shake y’all down over a freakin’ hotdog. 😶 like, yo my manz was hella hungry. As for you being young and stupid, I disagree. Traveling should be fun and safe. Society is just showing itself to be dark and dystopian by turns unexpected.

    Liked by 2 people

  14. Pingback: My Article Read (5-13-2016) – My Daily Musing | franciscansonthemountains

  15. Pingback: “Just Because You’re British” — Behind the White Coat – Acrostic Images

  16. And this text serves as a reminder that “racism without borders” is spreading the world over. Quite frightening. Merci Victoire, for the reminder.
    (And I hope you are home already)
    (If not, go. Now!)

    Liked by 2 people

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