Drugs & Violence (Part One)

This is the first of two articles looking at how drugs can affect violence. In the first article I share perhaps one of my own experiences of dealing with a pain-resistant assailant on drugs, back in the early 1990’s when I first started working pub/club/bar security, and in the second I will look at drugs and violence in a broader context.  

I have seen the effects of PCP (Phencyclidine) on pain tolerance firsthand and understand why one of its street names is “rocket fuel”. Although you do your best to prevent the use of drugs in a club, invariably someone at some point manages to smuggle some in – a lot of times this isn’t a problem, and you’re not aware of the fact that someone is on drugs because the effects are just exaggerated behaviors that can be hard to distinguish from the effects of alcohol. Sometimes though it is very, very clear that someone is under the influence – and control – of something very different to booze. One of the clubs I worked at was a converted theatre, which meant not only did the dance floor have to be covered and managed by security, but each of the two higher levels did as well. Whilst I was on the second level, I saw a scuffle break out between two of the security team, and a skinny man in a football shirt, down on the dance floor  – it turned out that he’d had a top on over this when he first came in, and so it hadn’t been picked up when he tried to gain entry, and now two doormen were trying to evict him from the club (the club had a strict no sports team shirts/insignia etc.). It quickly became clear that they weren’t having an easy time of it, and so I started to make my way down towards the dance floor to assist. By the time I got there, the guy in the football shirt was spinning around like a swirling dervish, lashing out with fists and feet at anyone who came near him. It’s hard to describe, the speed, irrationality, awkwardness, and desperate intent of his movements, as this 5’8”, 160-pound, individual spun around looking to connect with anyone and anything that got in his way. As I started to get closer to the melee it became clear that the first two doormen were getting pretty much nowhere in trying to subdue him and were having to resort to striking/punching in an attempt to deal with the situation (this was something we generally tried to avoid, for a number of reasons, including potential legal claims of having used excessive force etc.). However, despite taking several solid punches, nothing was working; one of these two doormen went on to win a commonwealth title at cruiser weight, so he wasn’t lacking in skills and abilities. Most times, drunk people lose their energy fast, especially after taking several body shots, which can be very physically draining for them, however this individual kept going and going, and like the Duracell Bunny looked like he was never going to stop.

The head doorman was a 280-pound Behemoth, who was a professional powerlifter, and one of the strongest men I’ve met. Out of nowhere, like a rhino breaking cover, he rushed out of the onlooking crowd, and managed to get a pretty solid, front bear-hug on this individual. I practiced Judo with him and knew just how powerful a grip that he had, so I knew the situation was now at least under control. As I moved towards them, to help assist in putting the assailant in a control position, I heard the head doorman shout that he was losing control, and that he wasn’t going to be able to hold on to him much longer. Breathing heavily, he shouted for me to choke him out – I was behind the attacker. My initial thought was to try and choke him out using my arms, as I’d be able to exert some control of the head, and this would help assist the bear-hug, in restricting his movements. However, he was pulled so tightly to the chest of the other doorman that there wasn’t enough room to slide my arm round the neck, and I was concerned that if I did, I’d be loosening his hold. Coming from behind I slipped my right hand, palm up, into the left collar of his shirt, and my left hand – in the same position – inside his right collar (an improvised rear, Gyaku-Juji Jime – Reverse Cross Strangle; something that wouldn’t have worked against a GI but worked well on a t-shirt/soccer shirt). This wasn’t something I’d been taught but was something that I realized in the moment could be done; often effective self-defense isn’t about performing practiced techniques but about improvising in the moment.  Turning my wrists and pulling my elbows out and back, the front of his shirt, was pulled across his throat, and started to cut into his carotid arteries. I remember praying that the material wouldn’t rip, and as the polyester shirt started to stretch, having to deepen and reapply my grip to accommodate this give. As I was doing this, the sweat off my hands was soaking the shirt which made it less slippery to hold on to, and easier to grip. My back muscles were burning, and I couldn’t pull anymore. Then he started to go limp. I was so tunnel-focused on my task – and strangely hypnotized by the dance music playing (it’s strange what goes through your mind when dealing with such incidents) - that one of the other doormen had to pull me off him, as they took him to the floor; in that moment I just didn’t want to release any pressure. Fortunately, the paramedics and police, had arrived, and as he came too (he was perhaps out for 10-15 seconds – or that’s what I recall), initially combative, was rolled on to and strapped to a gurney. It was when his pockets were searched, and he was interviewed by the paramedics, that it was discovered he’d been mixing PCP with his drinks over the course of the evening/night.

Experiences aren’t universal, and this is the trouble when their importance is over-emphasized. This incident I’ve described is a singular event and it would be wrong to conclude that drugs increase the chance of individuals acting violently. In next week’s article I want to take a more research and evidence based approach that looks at studies involving larger populations so as to get a better understanding of the relationship between drugs and violence.