Squirt on the Bus
During the mid-80s, I went to university in Upstate New York but lived on Long Island. The first time I visited my parents, I took a bus. My mum told me not to, but I figured, hey, it was cheap and I could read books the whole way. Silly me.

When I got on the bus, I was alright for the first twenty minutes until the first of three scheduled stops. That's when Wayne got on. Wayne had a 70s porn mustache and a blond afro. He was wearing white trousers and a red t-shirt that read SQUIRT.

Wayne started the conversation by telling me about his shirt. He was called Squirt because he had a weak bladder. He spent most of the next six hours telling me about how he peed in beer bottles, behind vending machines, out of windows, apparently anywhere except the appropriately designated areas. He also was proud of not spilling urine anywhere and kept inviting me to check out the crotch on his white trousers and confirm what he said.

This went on for the rest of the six-hour trip home, but at least he didn't demonstrate his talent.

The next time I went home, I listened to mom and took a plane.
(Evil Simon, Sat 27 Jun 2009, 18:22, Reply)