It is about time for another past revisited blog post. This time I’m revisiting a few different moments from my youth, but leaving out the names and locations, to protect identities!
There are many stories I can’t share for one reason or another, so I picked a few more sedate moments, but these are still pretty funny! These stories are from around twelve to fifteen years ago. I might share more stories sometime, but here are three for now.
The Fall Guy
A friend and I decided to go out for a few drinks at a local bar. We arrive only to discover the bar is completely dead. There is basically us and a chap trying to lick his peanut packet clean.
Disappointed we order a couple of beers and sit at a booth, where shortly arrives the ‘shot lady’. She is unashamedly flirting with us, in a not so subtle way. We buy a couple of shots, which taste like strong mouthwash (but not in a good way). Somehow we decide to wash this down with a couple of screaming orgasms (as you do), which frankly shouldn’t be mixed with shots.
So my friend comes back from the bar with these large brandy types glasses with the screaming orgasms, which are quite delicious. Only problem is our sexy shot lady is back… of course we want two more shots of mouthwash! Which were promptly followed by two more screaming orgasms from the bar. I could be wrong, but I think were drinking double screaming orgasms to save on trips to the bar.
So move forward an hour and we’ve been visited by the shot lady quite a lot and drunk a fair amount of screaming orgasms to wash the taste of the shots away. We’ve had so many shots that we’ve built a tower of shot glasses, one inside the other rising quite far off the table. We are proud of our tower, so when a bar person comes to clear our table I refuse to have the shot glasses removed.
So anyway… I head off to the toilets, but upon my return the bar has woken up somewhat and there is a group of ladies at our table. My friend is telling them about how he is a fighter pilot (he wasn’t), and so I am (d’oh). We decide to dance and instead of heading off to the dance floor, dance with the ladies in front our table. We are having quite a good time, though I’m disappointed our shot glass tower has been cleared away when our backs were turned.
My friend who is quite a good dancer is dancing away, chatting to a lady and then…. like a tree just chopped, falls directly backwards. I’m mean one moment he was John Travolta, the next he was on the ground, being lifted up by bouncers escorting him out. The ladies look shocked. I look shocked. My friend looks shocked.
At this stage my friend has lost the ability to walk unaided and we need to get a taxi. We realise we’ve spent all our money on shots and screaming orgasms (the drinks!), so we head off to a cash point. My friend can now hardly stand, and needs support. So I’m trying to hold him up against the wall with one hand, whilst using a cash point with another, and then a police car just mysteriously decides to pull up next to us. I let go of my friend who promptly slides down the wall. “Hello officers”, I say…….
Then onwards to the taxi rank, with me helping my friend get there. The first taxi who has probably waited a good half an hour to get to the front, sees us two and decides to pull away and drive off… gee what a surprise. The second has a death wish and waits for us.
At this stage I didn’t realise how drunk I was, because I promptly open a taxi door right into my face… hard into my face. I then get my friend into the taxi and we drive off to drop him off first. Five minutes later we are at his block of flats and he somehow gets out and staggers to the block’s front door. I then carry on home to my place.
The next morning I wake up and suddenly realise… how did he get up the two flights of stairs to his flat?? Anyway there was a lot more to this story, but that is all I’m going to tell you!
Like a Virgin
I’m sitting with a friend in a rough pub. I mean this pub is rough and the jukebox is loudly playing heavy metal music, whilst people are getting aggressive with each other, and world war three could occur at any moment over a spilled pint. I mean all it is going to take is one elbow knock, and armageddon will occur.
We are a bit surprised how rough the pub is that night, as we occasionally drink there and it is usually dead, but has a cheap pool table and good beer. Tonight though it is packed and a fight could break out any moment. However we are young, and frankly don’t care. We are enjoying our pint of beer and eating packets of crisps for dinner.
It is then I decide I want to put some music on the jukebox. I tell my friend who knows me too well and is looking at me suspiciously…. Friend: “what are you going to put on?” Me: “not sure, thought I would see what they have.” friend: “you are not planning anything are you?”. Me (looking mildy insulted) “no, but perhaps something to cheer the place up a bit”. Friend: “don’t!”.
So I head on over to the jukebox. I’m flicking through the selections…. ah here we go… I make my selections and quickly head back to the table.
I return tell my friend I decided to put something suitable on, and there is nothing to worry about. A moment later I’m enjoying my beer and Madonna’s ‘like a virgin’ starts blaring out. People are looking annoyed…. okay more than annoyed. I swear one person is about to turn into the Hulk and is sweeping the pub for the Madonna fan. I’m meanwhile trying to look equally annoyed at say loudly “who put this crap on?”, whilst my friend is not looking too happy at me…. it is then when the giggles hits me, and once you start it is hard to stop. So we down our pints, and as slowly as possible (without trying to appear to rush) leave the pub trying to look disgusted without laughing…. and then dash up the road. Friend: “how many songs did you put on?” Me: “Only about five I thought they would enjoy”.
The Traffic Cones
It was probably after midnight as myself and a couple of friends were driving down a road in the middle of nowhere with a wood on one side. “Traffic Cones!!!”, one of my friends blurts out, and the driver does an emergency stop!
Sure enough for some reason there are traffic cones amongst the trees at the edge of the woods. So naturally my friend wants one and jumps into a ditch on-route to the cones…. which is when myself and the friend (aka getaway driver) left at the driving wheel, spot just barely in the moonlight night the soldiers (army) slowly creeping towards my friend further back in the dark! They are not too close, but have obviously spotted the chap trying to steal their traffic cones.
What is this, a traffic cone sting operation in the middle of nowhere? My friend who at this stage has scrambled out the ditch on-route to the cones and is breaking every branch underfoot, is blissfully unaware he has just stumbled into some army manoeuvre.
At this stage our friend is trying to select a traffic cone, as if they are in a beauty pageant and he is an expert on traffic cones. Meanwhile we are frantically (but quietly, as we don’t think we’ve been spotted) trying to signal our friend, who finally turns round, smiling with his chosen traffic cone (not my choice, but hey), looks in the direction we are pointing, drops the cone and runs…. only to stop running and decides to go back for the cone! Shortly after we are speeding off and the army didn’t grab him, but held back.
I can only imagine the army conversation went something like this. “There is some git trying to steal one of our cones.” Response: “Hold back, let the idiot, do you want the paperwork?”
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