Quiet, polite customer

Jim drank at the Wayside Tavern for years. He sat at the end of the bar, & never made a noise. His large size & early middle age looks helped his face to appear serene.

In all this time Mine Host only ever spoke to Jim to serve him a drink. Jim was quiet, had a sense of humour, held down a high paying job, occassionally took a bottle of Kahlua home with him.

"Chilly tonight" "Yea" was the extent of several years of conversation between Jim & Mine Host. On nights when Jim was in, Mine Host wistfully wished there could be more customers such as Jim.

One evening Jim stood, walked behind the bar to & placed one hand on Mine Host's shoulder. "Jim, how can I help you?"

With the speed of a striking cobra, Jim violently wrenched Mine Host into the coldroom wall.

On the backswing Jim flung Mine Host, by now with torn shirt & trousers, like a rag doll into the corner below the sink. Jim then landed on Mine Host with both knees, then taking a hand full of hair with one hand, began belting away with his right.

Mine Host could not have been in a more helpless position.

A 70 year old bystander, half the size of Jim, came around behind the bar & dragged Jim off by the neck, using his forearm to crimp Jim's windpipe. Jim was suffocating, turning blue, approaching the point of unconsciousness. "Good, that will slow him down" thought Mine Host

Jim was released, his windpipe revererted (slowly) to it's original shape, & he began to gasp out of his catatonic state. All present were incredulous at this uncharacteristic display by Jim.

Still gasping, Jim turned slowly, sighted Mine Host, & began to flail away most violently, with arms like twirling sledgehammers. The elderly samaritan once again put his forearm around Jim's neck & cut his windpipe. Jim gasped folornly without noise (hehe, can't make gasping noise unless at least a little air is coming in!) Slowly he starved for oxygen & toppled to the floor.

Jim would weigh 140-150kg.

Mine Host & his saviour dragged Jim (quite an effort) through the foyer & toward the street. However he slowly became lucid & commenced again to struggle.

Just then 2 police officers (females both) arrived, summoned by alarmed customers. One officer remained outside, & did not enter the Wayside Tavern. The other berated Mine Host's saviour, stating that "choking someone" could land us in serious trouble.

Mine Host leapt to his feet & pointed out in a most undiplomatic tone of voice, that he had been in trouble, & now was not. Furthmore, Jim's state of health was of little concern, if Jim didn't like being knocked out, he could only blame himself!

Due to his mild drunken state , the police refused to interview or arrest Jim at the scene, telling him to go home. Then proceeded to berate Mine Host & his saviours about "using violence"

Mine Host acidly pointed out that the police had delivered no such diatribe to Jim.

Some months later the police informed Mine Host that "nothing can be done" about the "alleged assault" by Jim, as they had arrested Jim at the scene & charged him with public disorder.
Subsequently, and without Mine Host's knowledge Jim had already been found guilty of public disorder.

He cannot be tried twice on the same evidence. Thus no assault charge could now be pursued. The police took the opportunity to deliver a further sermon on the evils of using violence to defend oneself, stating that instead Mine Host should have "called the police".

Having had enough of this rot, Mine Host thundered most direspectfully at the officers that if someone had not dragged Jim off, the only call being made would be to the funeral director.!

Mine Host will go to his grave without any comprehension of why Jim attacked him, nor without any idea of why the 2 police were not only unhelpful, but were downright hostile to the victims of crime.