Overheard secrets
When I was a barman, I stood by polishing a glass as a couple had a hushed argument two feet away about what they were going to do now she was pregnant. The bloke promised to leave his wife, but subsequent hushed arguments revealed that he did not. What have you overheard?
Suggested by Free Pens
( , Thu 25 Aug 2011, 13:36)
When I was a barman, I stood by polishing a glass as a couple had a hushed argument two feet away about what they were going to do now she was pregnant. The bloke promised to leave his wife, but subsequent hushed arguments revealed that he did not. What have you overheard?
Suggested by Free Pens
( , Thu 25 Aug 2011, 13:36)
This question is now closed.
Kind of uttering something other people weren't meant to hear...
This is a slightly tenuous link to the question, but since it happened a couple of weeks ago, I just had to tell someone.
I was walking through town one day and got to a set of traffic lights. While I was waiting for the light to turn green and signal my advance, I noticed that to the right of me was a lovely young family. There was a mum, a dad, a baby in a pram and a little kid that couldn't have been more than 3 or 4.
The little kid was holding onto his dad's hand (or rather, a couple of his fingers), like a good boy does, but with his free hand started to pat his dad's stomach, saying (in what you can imagine is a cute 4-year-old's voice) "heee, you've got a big fat belly!".
It was amusing, it made me smirk somewhat, but clearly the dad wasn't amused. He turned around, looked down at his Son, paused for a brief second and retorted with "...You're a twat!".
( , Fri 26 Aug 2011, 14:37, 5 replies)
This is a slightly tenuous link to the question, but since it happened a couple of weeks ago, I just had to tell someone.
I was walking through town one day and got to a set of traffic lights. While I was waiting for the light to turn green and signal my advance, I noticed that to the right of me was a lovely young family. There was a mum, a dad, a baby in a pram and a little kid that couldn't have been more than 3 or 4.
The little kid was holding onto his dad's hand (or rather, a couple of his fingers), like a good boy does, but with his free hand started to pat his dad's stomach, saying (in what you can imagine is a cute 4-year-old's voice) "heee, you've got a big fat belly!".
It was amusing, it made me smirk somewhat, but clearly the dad wasn't amused. He turned around, looked down at his Son, paused for a brief second and retorted with "...You're a twat!".
( , Fri 26 Aug 2011, 14:37, 5 replies)
imagine waking up to this...
edit: forgot to say - we were camping at the bulldog bash, feeling slightly hungover, and being awoken by load motorbike engines revving up. over the din, we heard this wonderful exchange:
female one: 'ere! did you piss in the jug last night?'
female two: yeah, why?
female one: it still had the instant mash in it!
( , Fri 26 Aug 2011, 14:35, 2 replies)
edit: forgot to say - we were camping at the bulldog bash, feeling slightly hungover, and being awoken by load motorbike engines revving up. over the din, we heard this wonderful exchange:
female one: 'ere! did you piss in the jug last night?'
female two: yeah, why?
female one: it still had the instant mash in it!
( , Fri 26 Aug 2011, 14:35, 2 replies)
This probably doesn't count. And might be a repost. And is shit anyway. Basically; Sorry.
This is more overhearing and less secret, so feel free to skip the story or wait outside the website to beat me up when I leave tonight.
The wife once introduced me to an event which had been a big part of her childhood; The Wisbech Sunday Market. This was a colossal car-boot sale held in deepest, darkest Fenland. Now, for the uninitiated, this part of the country is subject to a lot of lazy stereotypes about incest, suspicion of outsiders, chasing trains away with pitchforks etc, none of which I experienced in my time there. Much like any other town though, it does have its fair share of thick twats and people who stopped reading the Daily Mail because it had gone a bit too Lefty.
Anyhow, I was taken to this Sunday Market as the wife felt I should experience it at least once in my life. As we entered, I overheard something which set the tone for the day; A man in his 60s, moaning exasperatedly to his companion in a strong Get-Orf-Moy-Laarnd accent "What are we supposed to call them now, then?! Golly-people?"
( , Fri 26 Aug 2011, 14:15, 1 reply)
This is more overhearing and less secret, so feel free to skip the story or wait outside the website to beat me up when I leave tonight.
The wife once introduced me to an event which had been a big part of her childhood; The Wisbech Sunday Market. This was a colossal car-boot sale held in deepest, darkest Fenland. Now, for the uninitiated, this part of the country is subject to a lot of lazy stereotypes about incest, suspicion of outsiders, chasing trains away with pitchforks etc, none of which I experienced in my time there. Much like any other town though, it does have its fair share of thick twats and people who stopped reading the Daily Mail because it had gone a bit too Lefty.
Anyhow, I was taken to this Sunday Market as the wife felt I should experience it at least once in my life. As we entered, I overheard something which set the tone for the day; A man in his 60s, moaning exasperatedly to his companion in a strong Get-Orf-Moy-Laarnd accent "What are we supposed to call them now, then?! Golly-people?"
( , Fri 26 Aug 2011, 14:15, 1 reply)
I have a friend
who has learnt to say 'You know I can understand you, don't you?' in 8 languages so far.
She never really overhears stuff, but has caused a few panics among people who think she has.
( , Fri 26 Aug 2011, 14:05, 3 replies)
who has learnt to say 'You know I can understand you, don't you?' in 8 languages so far.
She never really overhears stuff, but has caused a few panics among people who think she has.
( , Fri 26 Aug 2011, 14:05, 3 replies)
Another train ...
Yacking chavette on her mobile, non-stop.
Birmingham to Derby: chatting to the bloke she'd just started shagging, despite him being her best friend's boyfriend.
Derby to Leeds: consoling her best friend over her boyfriend shagging someone else.
( , Fri 26 Aug 2011, 13:54, Reply)
Yacking chavette on her mobile, non-stop.
Birmingham to Derby: chatting to the bloke she'd just started shagging, despite him being her best friend's boyfriend.
Derby to Leeds: consoling her best friend over her boyfriend shagging someone else.
( , Fri 26 Aug 2011, 13:54, Reply)
I was on a train once
and couldn't help overhearing a conversation some bloke was having on his mobile.
Aparently, he was on a train!
( , Fri 26 Aug 2011, 13:51, Reply)
and couldn't help overhearing a conversation some bloke was having on his mobile.
Aparently, he was on a train!
( , Fri 26 Aug 2011, 13:51, Reply)
The Law
I work quite a lot with the general public as well as volunteer groups and I often get misquoted or spoken about behind my back. I recently heard someone saying "RJW acts like a law unto himself". Which is true. I do. Because that's my job!
Kinda sad as all I'm doing is trying to help and improve things for everyone. You can't please them all!
( , Fri 26 Aug 2011, 13:24, Reply)
I work quite a lot with the general public as well as volunteer groups and I often get misquoted or spoken about behind my back. I recently heard someone saying "RJW acts like a law unto himself". Which is true. I do. Because that's my job!
Kinda sad as all I'm doing is trying to help and improve things for everyone. You can't please them all!
( , Fri 26 Aug 2011, 13:24, Reply)
Santa Pod
While at Santa Pod for a weekend of beer, fast cars and beautiful British weather under canvas we got completely rained on.
On one of the nights friends of ours in the next tent went to bed still arguing about something, in fact I fell asleep still listening to their heated words.
Oddly enough I was woken up later (it was too dark to see how much later) to the sounds of them making up from their argument....
( , Fri 26 Aug 2011, 13:01, Reply)
While at Santa Pod for a weekend of beer, fast cars and beautiful British weather under canvas we got completely rained on.
On one of the nights friends of ours in the next tent went to bed still arguing about something, in fact I fell asleep still listening to their heated words.
Oddly enough I was woken up later (it was too dark to see how much later) to the sounds of them making up from their argument....
( , Fri 26 Aug 2011, 13:01, Reply)
following on from the 'sometimes people don't realise you can speak a foreign language too' ones.
I was once sitting on the DLR with a colleague of mine from South Africa. Two women sitting further down the carriage were chatting away loudly in Afrikaans, falsely believing that no one could understand them.
It was muttered to me just what they were talking about and how one of them had caught a dose of something or other and had been recommended that she put some yogurt on it until she went to the doctor The other said that she too had had a similar ailment at one point and found that yogurt stopped the itching but 'smelt funny'.
As he got up to go to the door, he shouted 'I hope your fanny gets better soon' in an accent far stronger than he normally spoke with.
They both shrunk out of sight before getting off at the next station somehow both ashen and red-faced simultaneously.
( , Fri 26 Aug 2011, 12:52, 2 replies)
I was once sitting on the DLR with a colleague of mine from South Africa. Two women sitting further down the carriage were chatting away loudly in Afrikaans, falsely believing that no one could understand them.
It was muttered to me just what they were talking about and how one of them had caught a dose of something or other and had been recommended that she put some yogurt on it until she went to the doctor The other said that she too had had a similar ailment at one point and found that yogurt stopped the itching but 'smelt funny'.
As he got up to go to the door, he shouted 'I hope your fanny gets better soon' in an accent far stronger than he normally spoke with.
They both shrunk out of sight before getting off at the next station somehow both ashen and red-faced simultaneously.
( , Fri 26 Aug 2011, 12:52, 2 replies)
Camp (not that sort) fire tales
I retired to my tent one night at a bike rally (basically an excuse for a weekend-long piss-up, and not needing to drive home until you sober up some time Sunday) and tried to get some kip. In a nearby tent the familiar getting-to-know-you sounds started up, with much giggling followed by much grunting, followed by an almighty ripping sound. While I was thinking 'well, she isn't a virgin any more' I heard a male voice saying 'How am I going to tell your brother I ripped his tent while I was fucking his sister?'
Don't you just hate it when that happens?
( , Fri 26 Aug 2011, 11:50, Reply)
I retired to my tent one night at a bike rally (basically an excuse for a weekend-long piss-up, and not needing to drive home until you sober up some time Sunday) and tried to get some kip. In a nearby tent the familiar getting-to-know-you sounds started up, with much giggling followed by much grunting, followed by an almighty ripping sound. While I was thinking 'well, she isn't a virgin any more' I heard a male voice saying 'How am I going to tell your brother I ripped his tent while I was fucking his sister?'
Don't you just hate it when that happens?
( , Fri 26 Aug 2011, 11:50, Reply)
Statten Island ferry...
New York in 1999, taking the Statten Island ferry cos it was free and meant you could go past the Statue of Liberty. Sat outside, two blokes come out, spark up next to a "No Smoking" sign and strike up a hushed conversation.
I'm sat there like a proper grockle, camera out, snapping away, they chat about the weather, sports and other usual stuff, then one says; "Yeah, so apparently the victims wife called the DA and said that I should never a'got out for what I did. Still, don't worry, we'll deal wit dat".
At that point I got up and casually strolled off down the deck. Whether they'd worked out I was a grockle and done it for a laugh I dunno, but they really did both look hard.
( , Fri 26 Aug 2011, 11:44, 11 replies)
New York in 1999, taking the Statten Island ferry cos it was free and meant you could go past the Statue of Liberty. Sat outside, two blokes come out, spark up next to a "No Smoking" sign and strike up a hushed conversation.
I'm sat there like a proper grockle, camera out, snapping away, they chat about the weather, sports and other usual stuff, then one says; "Yeah, so apparently the victims wife called the DA and said that I should never a'got out for what I did. Still, don't worry, we'll deal wit dat".
At that point I got up and casually strolled off down the deck. Whether they'd worked out I was a grockle and done it for a laugh I dunno, but they really did both look hard.
( , Fri 26 Aug 2011, 11:44, 11 replies)
tits
Years ago, when I was in the scouts, we went camping one weekend. We were pretty much left on our own when we camped so we did as young boys did, and played all day long. One game involved all of us running into the bushes and hiding from one another, a sort of hide and seek, if you will. Whilst we were playing this game some of my friends overheard an older boy and girl (one of the guides who camped there) in conversation, basically he said to her, "cor I'd love to feel your tits". Apparently he didn't get a slap which to my hormonally deranged teen mind meant she was up for it, and the phrase alone gave me enough wanking material for a couple of weeks.
( , Fri 26 Aug 2011, 11:17, 2 replies)
Years ago, when I was in the scouts, we went camping one weekend. We were pretty much left on our own when we camped so we did as young boys did, and played all day long. One game involved all of us running into the bushes and hiding from one another, a sort of hide and seek, if you will. Whilst we were playing this game some of my friends overheard an older boy and girl (one of the guides who camped there) in conversation, basically he said to her, "cor I'd love to feel your tits". Apparently he didn't get a slap which to my hormonally deranged teen mind meant she was up for it, and the phrase alone gave me enough wanking material for a couple of weeks.
( , Fri 26 Aug 2011, 11:17, 2 replies)
High finance
I was earwigging in a bar in Singapore recently, one popular with the managers in international finance. The levels of selfish narcissistic self-entitlement in there went beyond merely irritating and horrifying and had passed through some kind of unbelievability event horizon so that it had become hugely entertaining, sort of like watching footage of spectacular natural disasters that have passed out of the "too soon" category.
Two highly aggressive (and very drunk) managers were discussing who to promote to run the Hong Kong office. They were agreed that finance arsehole #1 was a much better fit than finance arsehole #2. #1 had been caught embezzeling shiteloads of money. #2 was "a bit too chinese", by which they meant that he negotiated equitable compromises that everyone was happy with. However #1 was an aggressive cock like themselves who continually left a string of defrauded and embezzled investors in his wake. This is apparently a good thing, as it kept the culture of fraud going which allowed them to continue to dip their wick in other peoples money, whereas #2's negotiation and compromise were a Sign Of Weakness and Very Bad For The Company, in other words, he didn't cheat people out of money like they wanted to.
The worst thing about it though was that the entire drunken conversation was carried out in a version of hyper-capitalist management Newspeak which allowed them to convince themselves they were operating on some sort of highly ethical plane for the greater good of everyone.
Complete cunts. Oh, this was shortly after the large bailouts.
( , Fri 26 Aug 2011, 11:16, 1 reply)
I was earwigging in a bar in Singapore recently, one popular with the managers in international finance. The levels of selfish narcissistic self-entitlement in there went beyond merely irritating and horrifying and had passed through some kind of unbelievability event horizon so that it had become hugely entertaining, sort of like watching footage of spectacular natural disasters that have passed out of the "too soon" category.
Two highly aggressive (and very drunk) managers were discussing who to promote to run the Hong Kong office. They were agreed that finance arsehole #1 was a much better fit than finance arsehole #2. #1 had been caught embezzeling shiteloads of money. #2 was "a bit too chinese", by which they meant that he negotiated equitable compromises that everyone was happy with. However #1 was an aggressive cock like themselves who continually left a string of defrauded and embezzled investors in his wake. This is apparently a good thing, as it kept the culture of fraud going which allowed them to continue to dip their wick in other peoples money, whereas #2's negotiation and compromise were a Sign Of Weakness and Very Bad For The Company, in other words, he didn't cheat people out of money like they wanted to.
The worst thing about it though was that the entire drunken conversation was carried out in a version of hyper-capitalist management Newspeak which allowed them to convince themselves they were operating on some sort of highly ethical plane for the greater good of everyone.
Complete cunts. Oh, this was shortly after the large bailouts.
( , Fri 26 Aug 2011, 11:16, 1 reply)
French Animal Torture
On one of my (many) trips back from London Village on the train to Leeds, I once found myself sat next to a moderately attractive young lady. She put her laptop on and faffed around a bit, then made a phone call, speaking in relatively hushed tones with her hand round the handset, however I was sat net to her so could hear the whole thing. Nothing new here, overhearing a phone call on a train I hear you mock.
Turns out she was French.
Turns out she didn't realise that some people in England can speak/understand French.
Turns out that what she thought was a nice private conversation in French wasn't that private, because after she had hung up the call, I proceeded to ask her, in French, for some more details on her current work at Huntingdon Life Sciences. Turns out they were leaving some pooches with, frankly, destroyed livers.
Embarassed her much?
Yup
( , Fri 26 Aug 2011, 9:50, 24 replies)
On one of my (many) trips back from London Village on the train to Leeds, I once found myself sat next to a moderately attractive young lady. She put her laptop on and faffed around a bit, then made a phone call, speaking in relatively hushed tones with her hand round the handset, however I was sat net to her so could hear the whole thing. Nothing new here, overhearing a phone call on a train I hear you mock.
Turns out she was French.
Turns out she didn't realise that some people in England can speak/understand French.
Turns out that what she thought was a nice private conversation in French wasn't that private, because after she had hung up the call, I proceeded to ask her, in French, for some more details on her current work at Huntingdon Life Sciences. Turns out they were leaving some pooches with, frankly, destroyed livers.
Embarassed her much?
Yup
( , Fri 26 Aug 2011, 9:50, 24 replies)
Awww, bless, my first pea roast
Camping in the Lake District, a rather straight couple had decided to get an early night and had retired to their tent, while the rest of us got stoated sitting around the fire. After about half an hour of silence, we overheard the following conversation from inside their tent:
Woman (with voice distorted by having a mouth full of something): "Uuurgh! I don't know what to do with it!
Man: Well, just swallow it then.
When we'd wiped the tears from our eyes and cleaned up the mess caused by rapidly expelling beer through our nostrils, we found them peering out of the tent wondering what the fuss was all about. Apparently he'd prepared some soup, but it hadn't met with her approval...
Apparently.
( , Fri 26 Aug 2011, 9:16, 1 reply)
Camping in the Lake District, a rather straight couple had decided to get an early night and had retired to their tent, while the rest of us got stoated sitting around the fire. After about half an hour of silence, we overheard the following conversation from inside their tent:
Woman (with voice distorted by having a mouth full of something): "Uuurgh! I don't know what to do with it!
Man: Well, just swallow it then.
When we'd wiped the tears from our eyes and cleaned up the mess caused by rapidly expelling beer through our nostrils, we found them peering out of the tent wondering what the fuss was all about. Apparently he'd prepared some soup, but it hadn't met with her approval...
Apparently.
( , Fri 26 Aug 2011, 9:16, 1 reply)
dodgy accounts...
Overheard the sister in law bragging about how her and her husbands accountant had managed to fiddle their accounts so that it looked like they earn a pittance as self employed web designers and PC repairers....just so they could get a house from a housing association, she also mentioned that she didnt tell them about the income she got from writing mano-a-mano slash gay porn books!
( , Fri 26 Aug 2011, 8:35, Reply)
Overheard the sister in law bragging about how her and her husbands accountant had managed to fiddle their accounts so that it looked like they earn a pittance as self employed web designers and PC repairers....just so they could get a house from a housing association, she also mentioned that she didnt tell them about the income she got from writing mano-a-mano slash gay porn books!
( , Fri 26 Aug 2011, 8:35, Reply)
Hundreds a week in commercial rent and electricity alone, but the precise amounts are none of your business.
( , Fri 26 Aug 2011, 8:32, 4 replies)
Scanners
Back in the late 80s when mobile phones were the size of bricks and a rarity, we had a scanner. Mostly we could listen to the police broadcasts on their car twoways, get reports of ‘car vs tree’ or ‘motorcycle vs car’, (I think they had a secure frequency for really important stuff), but it would also pick up mobile phones. Two conversations have stuck in my memory for retelling over the years........
Husband: Hi Honey, I’m going to be late home tonight.
Wife: Awwww, why?
H: Have to drop in to see a client, don’t know how long I’ll be, I’m on my way there now.
W: Why do you always have to see them after work, I hardly see you anymore (kid crying in background)
H: Well, I can’t help it, I’ll make it up to you later
W: yeah, sure.
H: ok, gotta go, I’ll see you when I get home, don’t wait up. Bye.
W: Seeya.
Phone call ends.
We then press the button to scan again. Off it goes and settles on another frequency. We hear ringing tone.
Ring, ring.
Woman: Hello?
Man: Hi baby, I’m on my way.
(Hmmmmm. Man sounds suspiciously like the man we just heard on the phone to his wife. No. Can’t be, can it?)
Woman: Ooooh, what did you tell her?
Man: Told her I was seeing a client, and not to wait up.
Woman: Fantastic, how far away are you.
Man: Not far, I’ll be there in 5.
Woman: ok honey, see you soon.
Man: Seeya. Bye.
I must admit, the wife sounded a bit common variety lower class type, and the girlfriend sounded delightful. So I probably don’t blame him. But it’s still WRONG, OK!
Never heard anything else as juicy as that. Would love to be able to do it today. The frequencies (or whatever technical terminology it is) were different then. Ahh, the good old days.
( , Fri 26 Aug 2011, 8:02, 6 replies)
Back in the late 80s when mobile phones were the size of bricks and a rarity, we had a scanner. Mostly we could listen to the police broadcasts on their car twoways, get reports of ‘car vs tree’ or ‘motorcycle vs car’, (I think they had a secure frequency for really important stuff), but it would also pick up mobile phones. Two conversations have stuck in my memory for retelling over the years........
Husband: Hi Honey, I’m going to be late home tonight.
Wife: Awwww, why?
H: Have to drop in to see a client, don’t know how long I’ll be, I’m on my way there now.
W: Why do you always have to see them after work, I hardly see you anymore (kid crying in background)
H: Well, I can’t help it, I’ll make it up to you later
W: yeah, sure.
H: ok, gotta go, I’ll see you when I get home, don’t wait up. Bye.
W: Seeya.
Phone call ends.
We then press the button to scan again. Off it goes and settles on another frequency. We hear ringing tone.
Ring, ring.
Woman: Hello?
Man: Hi baby, I’m on my way.
(Hmmmmm. Man sounds suspiciously like the man we just heard on the phone to his wife. No. Can’t be, can it?)
Woman: Ooooh, what did you tell her?
Man: Told her I was seeing a client, and not to wait up.
Woman: Fantastic, how far away are you.
Man: Not far, I’ll be there in 5.
Woman: ok honey, see you soon.
Man: Seeya. Bye.
I must admit, the wife sounded a bit common variety lower class type, and the girlfriend sounded delightful. So I probably don’t blame him. But it’s still WRONG, OK!
Never heard anything else as juicy as that. Would love to be able to do it today. The frequencies (or whatever technical terminology it is) were different then. Ahh, the good old days.
( , Fri 26 Aug 2011, 8:02, 6 replies)
Best. Meal. Ever!
Sitting in a pub having a quiet schnitzel and chips with the missus one night a couple walked in and took a table around the corner from us. It was an odd-shaped restaurant area and they clearly didn't think anyone was near them. We were eating, so hadn't said anything as they arrived, and their conversation started.
"Look before we order, I want to tell you something," she said.
"I was pregnant, but I'm not anymore. As of this last week."
And so it began.
The girl had been pregnant, the guy was outraged he hadn't been told, she said it was because they'd been broken up for the past month and she didn't know if they were ever getting back together, he said oh darling how horrible for you to go through that alone, she revealed it was an abortion, he was outraged, she revealed he wasn't the father, he was apoplectic, she said she'd slept with someone else because she'd found out about him and her best friend, he was ashamed, she said she was only with him now to hurt him, he said was only with her now to win her back, she said she didn't love him at all, he said he loved only her, she cried and said she really loved him too, he said "Ha!" I lied I don't really love you, she called him a bad word, he dashed down his cutlery... and a woman walked up to say "Hi there, just wondering if you'd like to take part in the trivia contest later? Here's a pen and... oh, have I come at a bad time?"
The trivia lady left, the man stormed off and the woman, with a defiant snort, got up to leave as well..
And saw us sitting there slack-jawed with a fork still halfway to our mouths from when they'd started five minutes before.
Dinner theatre at its finest.
( , Fri 26 Aug 2011, 7:58, 9 replies)
Sitting in a pub having a quiet schnitzel and chips with the missus one night a couple walked in and took a table around the corner from us. It was an odd-shaped restaurant area and they clearly didn't think anyone was near them. We were eating, so hadn't said anything as they arrived, and their conversation started.
"Look before we order, I want to tell you something," she said.
"I was pregnant, but I'm not anymore. As of this last week."
And so it began.
The girl had been pregnant, the guy was outraged he hadn't been told, she said it was because they'd been broken up for the past month and she didn't know if they were ever getting back together, he said oh darling how horrible for you to go through that alone, she revealed it was an abortion, he was outraged, she revealed he wasn't the father, he was apoplectic, she said she'd slept with someone else because she'd found out about him and her best friend, he was ashamed, she said she was only with him now to hurt him, he said was only with her now to win her back, she said she didn't love him at all, he said he loved only her, she cried and said she really loved him too, he said "Ha!" I lied I don't really love you, she called him a bad word, he dashed down his cutlery... and a woman walked up to say "Hi there, just wondering if you'd like to take part in the trivia contest later? Here's a pen and... oh, have I come at a bad time?"
The trivia lady left, the man stormed off and the woman, with a defiant snort, got up to leave as well..
And saw us sitting there slack-jawed with a fork still halfway to our mouths from when they'd started five minutes before.
Dinner theatre at its finest.
( , Fri 26 Aug 2011, 7:58, 9 replies)
Overhead by not by me...
I was wing man for a friend on date with two Singaporean girls. After 20 mins in the queue at the door and another 20 mins queuing at the bar, we finally got a table and were sitting down and enjoying cocktails.
My friend's date's drink had a maraschino cherry on a stick. She finished the drink but obviously didn't want the cherry. So she holds it proudly aloft and asks in a loud voice "Who wants my cherry?"
My friend and I try desperately but poorly to stifle our laughter. Everyone around hears and two tables next to us burst out laughing. Our dates are clueless as to what has just happened and the girl who made the offer is getting progressively more angry at why everyone is laughing at her.
Being a good wing man (and because my mate isn't helping out his girl), I explain that she just offered her virginity. And then I'M the one who gets in trouble! She wouldn't speak to me for the rest of the night!
My mate ended up marrying the friend after all that, too. Oh well.
( , Fri 26 Aug 2011, 6:25, 3 replies)
I was wing man for a friend on date with two Singaporean girls. After 20 mins in the queue at the door and another 20 mins queuing at the bar, we finally got a table and were sitting down and enjoying cocktails.
My friend's date's drink had a maraschino cherry on a stick. She finished the drink but obviously didn't want the cherry. So she holds it proudly aloft and asks in a loud voice "Who wants my cherry?"
My friend and I try desperately but poorly to stifle our laughter. Everyone around hears and two tables next to us burst out laughing. Our dates are clueless as to what has just happened and the girl who made the offer is getting progressively more angry at why everyone is laughing at her.
Being a good wing man (and because my mate isn't helping out his girl), I explain that she just offered her virginity. And then I'M the one who gets in trouble! She wouldn't speak to me for the rest of the night!
My mate ended up marrying the friend after all that, too. Oh well.
( , Fri 26 Aug 2011, 6:25, 3 replies)
Trafalgar Square
I was standing among the pigeons by the famous fountain when I heard a chap on his mobile exclaim loudly "sorry darling, Trafalgar Square is really busy".
I cocked my head to one side and looked knowingly at him. He shrugged his shoulders and smiled.
When I say famous fountain, I am of course referring to the sundial fountain in Plymouth city centre.
( , Fri 26 Aug 2011, 2:34, 2 replies)
I was standing among the pigeons by the famous fountain when I heard a chap on his mobile exclaim loudly "sorry darling, Trafalgar Square is really busy".
I cocked my head to one side and looked knowingly at him. He shrugged his shoulders and smiled.
When I say famous fountain, I am of course referring to the sundial fountain in Plymouth city centre.
( , Fri 26 Aug 2011, 2:34, 2 replies)
Bitter pill....?
I was in an airport lounge about 18 months ago when I heard a fellow talking on his mobile to someone from his office. He was describing a clinical trial of a new drug - he was evidently a senior researcher at a pharmaceutical company, and the trial had not gone according to plan.
Through a combination of listening to this indiscreet, loud-mouthed chap, and quickly searching publicly-available information on the web, I was able to figure out very quickly the name of the experimental drug, the company, the disease it was being researched in, that the results hadn't met expectations, that the doctors involved in the research would be informed the following day, a press release would go out the following day, and that there was some damage limitation going on involving identification of a subset of patients in the research who actually did OK.
Slightly tempted to recite it all back to him as I was leaving the lounge, just to see the look on his face.
( , Fri 26 Aug 2011, 2:12, 2 replies)
I was in an airport lounge about 18 months ago when I heard a fellow talking on his mobile to someone from his office. He was describing a clinical trial of a new drug - he was evidently a senior researcher at a pharmaceutical company, and the trial had not gone according to plan.
Through a combination of listening to this indiscreet, loud-mouthed chap, and quickly searching publicly-available information on the web, I was able to figure out very quickly the name of the experimental drug, the company, the disease it was being researched in, that the results hadn't met expectations, that the doctors involved in the research would be informed the following day, a press release would go out the following day, and that there was some damage limitation going on involving identification of a subset of patients in the research who actually did OK.
Slightly tempted to recite it all back to him as I was leaving the lounge, just to see the look on his face.
( , Fri 26 Aug 2011, 2:12, 2 replies)
I've just waxed me vagina and it's gone all red!
Said a girl on the next table one night in Torquay.
It was hardly a secret though as she then got onto the table and spread her legs so her friends could see.
It was soooo classy.
( , Thu 25 Aug 2011, 22:49, 3 replies)
Said a girl on the next table one night in Torquay.
It was hardly a secret though as she then got onto the table and spread her legs so her friends could see.
It was soooo classy.
( , Thu 25 Aug 2011, 22:49, 3 replies)
My ex on the phone
Let me set the scene she was in the next room i was ear wigging through a small crack in the door. I could only hear her side of the conversation and what little i heard went like this;
"Listen it's really important i speak to you. I don't know who else to talk to about this."
..................
"It's just too big , it won't fit"
..................
"No! I want to call it off the whole thing , it's too expensive anyway"
..................
"If you turn up tomorrow i won't be in"
...................
Then she hung up. Anyway that's how i found out that i wasn't getting a thirty six inch telly for Christmas :(
( , Thu 25 Aug 2011, 22:33, Reply)
Let me set the scene she was in the next room i was ear wigging through a small crack in the door. I could only hear her side of the conversation and what little i heard went like this;
"Listen it's really important i speak to you. I don't know who else to talk to about this."
..................
"It's just too big , it won't fit"
..................
"No! I want to call it off the whole thing , it's too expensive anyway"
..................
"If you turn up tomorrow i won't be in"
...................
Then she hung up. Anyway that's how i found out that i wasn't getting a thirty six inch telly for Christmas :(
( , Thu 25 Aug 2011, 22:33, Reply)
Not me, but
A friend went to see Bolton Wanderers play Birmingham City at St. Andrews many years ago, when a certain Lordsugar-friendly businesswoman was in charge. Looking for some free urinals at half-time, he gets lost in a maze of club offices.
Suddenly a door flies open and a man comes staggering out backwards, with Ms Brady's voice calling after him, "And if you do that again, you're FUCKING SACKED!".
( , Thu 25 Aug 2011, 21:53, 2 replies)
A friend went to see Bolton Wanderers play Birmingham City at St. Andrews many years ago, when a certain Lordsugar-friendly businesswoman was in charge. Looking for some free urinals at half-time, he gets lost in a maze of club offices.
Suddenly a door flies open and a man comes staggering out backwards, with Ms Brady's voice calling after him, "And if you do that again, you're FUCKING SACKED!".
( , Thu 25 Aug 2011, 21:53, 2 replies)
I once worked in an office building, where although the doors to the male and female toilets were miles apart,
the actual rooms backed on to each other, and seemed to share an extraction system. You would find yourself in a cubicle and be able to hear what ever was being said in the room behind you. Men don't really strike up conversations in these situations, so the women never cottoned on to what was going on, so would quite happily jabber on about the most intimate of things.
We kept a list of the more outrageous ones, but all I can remember now is
'I've told him he can either fist my fanny or do me up the arse. When he tries to do both it hurts and I think I might shit myself'.
It was spoken in a really strong Bristolian accent, which really stood out in Docklands, so we all knew who it was!
( , Thu 25 Aug 2011, 21:49, Reply)
the actual rooms backed on to each other, and seemed to share an extraction system. You would find yourself in a cubicle and be able to hear what ever was being said in the room behind you. Men don't really strike up conversations in these situations, so the women never cottoned on to what was going on, so would quite happily jabber on about the most intimate of things.
We kept a list of the more outrageous ones, but all I can remember now is
'I've told him he can either fist my fanny or do me up the arse. When he tries to do both it hurts and I think I might shit myself'.
It was spoken in a really strong Bristolian accent, which really stood out in Docklands, so we all knew who it was!
( , Thu 25 Aug 2011, 21:49, Reply)
LOVE Bartending stories!
I work at a resident's bar in a 4 star hotel, so get a lot of business clients, business owners, and other fairly well-off people who like to pretend they're a lot richer than they actually are. One evening, late one night, I had a small group of men at the bar discussing setting up a private 'red letter' club, as a means to doing all the things they've always wanted to do before they die. Expensive things, like travelling to the Grand Canyon, skydiving and bungee jumping, among other things. They began to get quite excited, when one of them said to his friend:
"You could even fund it with money from the charity, if your conscience would allow it..."
The gentleman pursed his lips and slowly nodded his head.
Be careful who you're giving your money to.
( , Thu 25 Aug 2011, 21:43, 6 replies)
I work at a resident's bar in a 4 star hotel, so get a lot of business clients, business owners, and other fairly well-off people who like to pretend they're a lot richer than they actually are. One evening, late one night, I had a small group of men at the bar discussing setting up a private 'red letter' club, as a means to doing all the things they've always wanted to do before they die. Expensive things, like travelling to the Grand Canyon, skydiving and bungee jumping, among other things. They began to get quite excited, when one of them said to his friend:
"You could even fund it with money from the charity, if your conscience would allow it..."
The gentleman pursed his lips and slowly nodded his head.
Be careful who you're giving your money to.
( , Thu 25 Aug 2011, 21:43, 6 replies)
Many Many Years Ago
My younger sister worked with me in an exhibition company in Cardiff.
We'd popped out for a relaxing drink or ten in a nightclub which should remain nameless (Jacksons).
Sister went to the loos, then returned laughing like a loon:
Overheard at the washbasins (you'll have to imagine South Wales accents)
"Ooh - I can't wait till I gets home and 'as it. My fanny's dripping"
I love Wales.
( , Thu 25 Aug 2011, 21:12, 1 reply)
My younger sister worked with me in an exhibition company in Cardiff.
We'd popped out for a relaxing drink or ten in a nightclub which should remain nameless (Jacksons).
Sister went to the loos, then returned laughing like a loon:
Overheard at the washbasins (you'll have to imagine South Wales accents)
"Ooh - I can't wait till I gets home and 'as it. My fanny's dripping"
I love Wales.
( , Thu 25 Aug 2011, 21:12, 1 reply)
This question is now closed.