It's Not What It Looks Like!
Cawl wrote two years ago, "People seem to have a knack for walking in at just the wrong time:
"Well, my clothes got wet, so did his... Yes, officer, huddling together to conserve body heat... Yes officer, he's five... No Officer... I'm not his Dad."
What have you done that, in retrospect, you'd really rather nobody had seen, mostly as things just get worse the more you try to explain it?
( , Thu 9 Dec 2010, 21:56)
Cawl wrote two years ago, "People seem to have a knack for walking in at just the wrong time:
"Well, my clothes got wet, so did his... Yes, officer, huddling together to conserve body heat... Yes officer, he's five... No Officer... I'm not his Dad."
What have you done that, in retrospect, you'd really rather nobody had seen, mostly as things just get worse the more you try to explain it?
( , Thu 9 Dec 2010, 21:56)
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A couple of years back (as all these stories are)
I popped into my local newsagent/off licence for nothing more than a magazine and a bar of chocolate. It was about half past ten in the evening, and all winter and freezy and stuff, so anyone in their right mind was tucked up safely at home. As a result, I was the only person in the shop.
As I approach the till with a copy of GamesTM and a bar of Galaxy the girl behind the counter looks up and helpfully points out that Galaxy is two-for-a-pound, so I trot back over, grab another, and head back. As I approach for the second time...
...she's dancing. "That's odd" thinks I, "especially as there's no music playing". As I get closer I realise her head's tipped back and her eyes are slightly glazed. She's having a fit.
Shit.
She can't have been too far gone, because, through clenched teeth, she squeezed out the words "hold me", before stumbling backwards into the tobacco.
I looked around - I was still the only person in the store, so I ran behind the till and held her. There was very little room to maneuver, and as I struggled she knocked a bottle of vodka off the shelf. I catch it with my foot, but wasn't quick enough to save the sweet display, which tumbles onto the customer side of the counter. She shakes violently, and the only thing I can think to do is bear hug her.
...and at that point, when everything's going flying, a little old man and a little old lady decide to totter in. And what do they see? Me, in a hoody, with my beanie pulled down and my collar pulled up, wrestling with the young girl behind the till while she thrashes, seemingly trying to escape.
Shit. Again.
The only words that come out are "It's, it's, I, she's". Not the most believable protestation of innocence.
Thankfully, before they could yell or do anything the fitting stopped, and when I carefully laid her on the floor and didn't run they realised I wasn't a Daily Mail style hoody, merely a common-or-garden hoody who likes to keep his neck warm.
Every now and again I pass the girl in the street, and I always snigger internally and think "You don't even know me and I bear hugged you from behind".
( , Mon 13 Dec 2010, 13:06, 4 replies)
I popped into my local newsagent/off licence for nothing more than a magazine and a bar of chocolate. It was about half past ten in the evening, and all winter and freezy and stuff, so anyone in their right mind was tucked up safely at home. As a result, I was the only person in the shop.
As I approach the till with a copy of GamesTM and a bar of Galaxy the girl behind the counter looks up and helpfully points out that Galaxy is two-for-a-pound, so I trot back over, grab another, and head back. As I approach for the second time...
...she's dancing. "That's odd" thinks I, "especially as there's no music playing". As I get closer I realise her head's tipped back and her eyes are slightly glazed. She's having a fit.
Shit.
She can't have been too far gone, because, through clenched teeth, she squeezed out the words "hold me", before stumbling backwards into the tobacco.
I looked around - I was still the only person in the store, so I ran behind the till and held her. There was very little room to maneuver, and as I struggled she knocked a bottle of vodka off the shelf. I catch it with my foot, but wasn't quick enough to save the sweet display, which tumbles onto the customer side of the counter. She shakes violently, and the only thing I can think to do is bear hug her.
...and at that point, when everything's going flying, a little old man and a little old lady decide to totter in. And what do they see? Me, in a hoody, with my beanie pulled down and my collar pulled up, wrestling with the young girl behind the till while she thrashes, seemingly trying to escape.
Shit. Again.
The only words that come out are "It's, it's, I, she's". Not the most believable protestation of innocence.
Thankfully, before they could yell or do anything the fitting stopped, and when I carefully laid her on the floor and didn't run they realised I wasn't a Daily Mail style hoody, merely a common-or-garden hoody who likes to keep his neck warm.
Every now and again I pass the girl in the street, and I always snigger internally and think "You don't even know me and I bear hugged you from behind".
( , Mon 13 Dec 2010, 13:06, 4 replies)
did you cop a feel while you were at it?
the internet needs to know...
( , Mon 13 Dec 2010, 13:51, closed)
the internet needs to know...
( , Mon 13 Dec 2010, 13:51, closed)
Well, like I said, I bear-hugged her, and it all happened so fast, and my hand went, I mean, she was, it, her bre-
SHUT UP, YOU!
( , Mon 13 Dec 2010, 14:12, closed)
SHUT UP, YOU!
( , Mon 13 Dec 2010, 14:12, closed)
I read the first line as
"...everyone in their right mind was safely fucked up at home"
Probably about right, actually.
( , Mon 13 Dec 2010, 14:01, closed)
"...everyone in their right mind was safely fucked up at home"
Probably about right, actually.
( , Mon 13 Dec 2010, 14:01, closed)
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