Mr Angry: 24 Hour Drinkfests

The New Criminologist ~ 22 August 2005

Drink...

It's not very often I recount my real life experiences but my social conscience has got the better of me over the past few weeks and I have found myself losing a generous amount of sleep over the proposed relaxation of the laws on 24 hour drinking sessions down the local boozer, for every citizen in the UK.

It's not the fact that I could be woken up at any hour of the morning by those who think they are Karaoke Kings and Queens, as they serenade the whole community with their off-key warbling, and totally ruining classic songs with lyrics that the song writer never thought possible.

It's not the fact that as they reach their respective homes, they have to announce to the whole community that they love each other and say goodbye over a period not lasting less than an hour and lasting upwards of two hours.
It's not the fact that I can be woken to the dulcet tones of a drunken argument between two or more people, that will predictably turn into a full blown case of fists at dawn, handbags at dawn, or a bit of both.

That happens as a par for the course in the area in which I live, when pub landlords and landladies bid their customers farewell and mind how you go.

It's all part of the British way of life that we know happens between the hours of 11 a.m. and 11p.m, from the moment our local hostelries open their very welcoming doors, until they close them after selling copious amounts of alcohol to a variety of very different characters and personalities.

It wasn't always like that, as the licensing laws in Britain used to say that pubs, hotels and off-licenses could only sell alcoholic beverages between 11 a.m. and 3 p.m. and then between 5.30 p.m. and 10.30 p.m. thus accommodating the lunch time drinker and the bloke who wanted a drink after a hard day's work, at the factory or the office.
Times have changed however, with people in general having far more leisure time, and a quiet pint of a morning or afternoon is now the norm, a trip to the off-license at any time of the day is a regular occurrence amongst Joe public as we in Britain adopt a more continental lifestyle.

Now, I have nothing against anyone's drinking habits or the reasons why they feel the need to get totally off the planet as long as they don't make the lives of others a total misery.

In my hometown of Middlesbrough, I witnessed at first hand what the relaxation of past licensing laws allowed to happen, and I suspect that I am not alone in my experiences.

One of my mates, 'Mad' Mick, used to wake up on Giro Day and wait at the front door for the postman to arrive at 9 a.m. with his government approved beer tokens, a fortnightly ritual for Mick.

With Giro in hand, at around 10.30 a.m. he would make his way to the Post Office and cash his Giro, pay his bills and then do the fortnightly shop for essential food to keep him, his missus and kids cheaply but happily nourished, plus putting a few quid aside for a bet on the horses or the performance of Middlesbrough Football Club.

Mad Mick was a typically Giro dependant man, who got by through doing little bits and pieces on the side as favours.
He was kind hearted and would do anything for anyone, and if offered cash for his deeds he would happily take it and split the difference between his self and his wife, after all when the kids needed new clothes they always came first.

However, where Mad Mick got his moniker from is all down to the change in character caused by the accessibility to alcohol over a twelve-hour period once a fortnight.

At 12 noon, Mick would meet up with his mates at the local boozer.

After paying his mates back the money he had borrowed the last Giro day, he would promise faithfully that he was not going to get drunk, and swore blind that he would behave himself because his missus had threatened to leave him if he got into trouble with the Police again.

After one or two pints, Mick and his mates would move on to the next pub and he and his entourage would be in a fine, jovial mood.

After three hours or so Mick's mates would start to drift away, home to sleep off the afternoon session and have something to eat so that they were ready for the evening session at the local Working Men's Club.

But not Mick.

He would go to the nearest fish and chip shop on the way to the next pub where he would sink a few shorts as he waited for the Working Men's Club to open.

He could meet up with his mates and their spouses there for a game of bingo, if Mick could see the numbers on his bingo card at that time, because the alcohol he had consumed in the afternoon began to kick in and Mick would be functioning on auto pilot.

At around 9 in the evening his mood would start to change, he became aggressive because his game of bingo wasn't going the way he wanted it to, and he was down to the last £10 of his Giro money.

At this point of the evening he would ask to borrow money from his mates so that he could get the next round in, and his mates, knowing Mick's personality, would always oblige because they did not want to upset him.

Now, we all know the stages of drunken behaviour and Mad Mick was the epitome of every one of them.

Stage 1, the merry stage, would have been surpassed with Mick at around 3 in the afternoon.

Stage 2, Mick is drunk, loves all of his mates, and announces the fact to anyone who would listen.

Stage 3, In Mick's puddled thoughts, by 10.30 p.m. everybody hates him and he is on a mission to find out why, to satisfy his own self-pity.

Stage 4 is the culmination of Mick's day and evening out, as he would pick an argument with his best friend over something as trivial as a spilt drink.


Gaining no satisfaction, Mick would show his true colours and begin to shout at anyone who caught his eye and start to make a total fool of himself, staggering into tables, chairs and other bingo players, and more often than not he would fall over.
This would only add fuel to the anger that he would already be feeling and the abuse that poured from his mouth would earn him the further humiliation of being ejected from the Working Man's Club, just before last orders were called.

Once in this alcohol fuelled rage, Mick would not accept his lot and quietly go home, he would look for the nearest missile to hurl through a window, or resort to his favourite sport of taxi football.

This sport involved Mick trying to flag down a taxi as he headed in the general direction of home.

Any taxi driver who would not stop for him because they noticed his drunken state would have his rear bumper dented by Mick's right boot, and if they stopped to remonstrate with Mick, he would always attack them in a fit of uncontrollable violence.

This would more often than not result in Mick spending a night in the local nick, arrested for being drunk and disorderly, assault occasioning actual bodily harm, or some other public order offence.

There must be thousands like Mad Mick, and I have met quite a few of them in the past.

They are the type who think that a good night out consists of getting totally plastered, going to a nightclub, making a total fool of themselves on the dance floor and then heading for the nearest kebab shop or burger van.

Then they make as much of a nuisance of themselves as they can and end the night in a good old fight with anyone who rises to the bait; and that's without them spilling the entire contents of their stomachs over your garden wall and onto your prize roses.

Then there is Chav World to consider.

Imagine the scenes outside of the local off-license, as if things are not bad enough.

Gangs of mindless morons laying siege to shopping precincts country wide as they gorge themselves on silly percent alcohol, normally in the form of strong white cider and that's 24 hours a day.

How will the Police handle 24 hour drinking?

Will they turn a blind eye to the thugs who decide that it will be jolly fun to get drunk and then cause as much mayhem as they can in the local neighbourhood?

We already know that the Police are under-funded and lack the resources to deal with things the way they are at present, that's why they would rather give offenders a slap across the wrist than punish them.

Of course, there are sensible drinkers who know their limits but my main worry is that of the drink driver or perish the thought, the drink and drug user climbing behind the wheel at stupid o'clock in the morning because they need some fresh air.
The temptation to have a bucket full of ale overnight and then think you are the best driver in the world would be easy because it's well known that the Police tend to relax in the early hours of the morning and are less visible on the road.
The 24-hour drinking laws are going to prove very expensive in human terms and money terms I fear as A and E hospital departments are further overstretched by the effects of alcohol on those who cannot control themselves after a marathon drinking session.

I will predict however, a roaring trade in alcohol awareness courses for drink drivers and together with Alcoholics Anonymous, unemployment figures will fall as the demand for counsellors and therapists grows.

However, it was reported on TV news last week that the government may not implement the new laws because of many people's concerns about the misery that the new laws will thrust upon those who just want a bit of peace after a hard day's work.

They do not want their sleep cycle being disturbed by rubber people bouncing off walls and bringing Dean Martin Karaoke sessions onto the streets at 4 a.m.
Is a bit of peace and quiet too much to ask?