in which my mate's wife gets a frosty reception
about ten years ago, i was coming back from skelmersdale with my mate ronnie in his car. it was mid december and bitterly cold, so we'd both bought coffee from the drive-thru. it kept us warm for a while, but about 3 miles from home, i started to feel a very familiar pressure in the bladdery regions. "ron, i need a wee," i said. "don't worry," says he, "we'll be home soon, you can hold it till then, can't you?" i believed that i could.
unfortunately, we then hit a very large traffic jam. it was about a mile and a half to the end of the motorway, with nothing moving very far at all. half an hour later, we'd got about 300 yards and i'd got desperate. "ron, i REALLY need a wee." "just hold it," he replies, "i think the traffic is starting to move."
20 minutes later, the traffic actually does start to move and i thought i would make it.
then i felt it. i was going to sneeze. now, i don't know how it works for men, but if a woman needs a wee and sneezes, there's very little you can do to stop yourself weeing right there and then.
i sneezed. i weed. i almost died of shame. ronnie put a brave face on it, but i knew he was very annoyed.
ten minutes later, i was finally home. hiding my shame with my handbag, i leapt out of the car and ran home to change. i fervently hoped nothing more would be said about the whole unfortunate affair.
the next morning, i got a phonecall from an hysterically laughing ronnie, who had just dropped his wife off at work. as she climbed into the very cold car, she'd asked "ron, why is the passenger seat frozen?"
he didn't have the heart to tell her.
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Thu 22 Apr 2010, 19:17, Reply)