I got a savage kicking in a (dodgy, cheap) Belfast Takeaway not too long ago (for locals: It's that one, yes, and somehow I managed to get battered in the 15 seconds of the year there isn't at least one Cop in it), and it really wrecked my head for a long time. What made it worse was that we were drinking in the (pretty rough) bar across the road, which I didn't want to go into, as it has something of a rep for random violence. Got through the rough pub, to get decked in a chippy.
I was there with three girls, minding my own business, when eight spidey gits pummelled me, got a phone, wallet etc. all that kit. Feckers even took my fags. Not nice at all, and everyone in the place (it was packed, pub closing time, was predictably rendered blind, because some of those responsible were apparently the spawn of local paramilitaries.
On a cheerier note, some years back, I was on the end of the worst muggers ever. I had left work, and was dandering through a fairly "edgy" bit of town on my way to meet the ads in the pub. I'd had a good lift in the bookies that day. Suddenly, a wee skite of a lad, not one inch over five foot appears.
"Gi's yer wallet, Mister" (ye can't fault belfast hoods. They at least adress you politely)
"Look, son, away home before I slap ye"
"Seersly, gi's yer wallet, now"
"Lad, piss off. If you want it, take it"
"Right, houl on there, Ah'm gonna get me brother. He'll take it aff ye"
Obviously, I waited patiently for his return.