Holy stash
I think I was about 7 when me and a friend discovered a closed-off passageway behind the church opposite where I lived. We managed to wriggle through the bars and set off down the path to explore. The path was a bit overgrown and under dense tree cover, but we soon discovered it led along the back of the playgroup hut beside the church to a deep trench along the bottom of the vicar's garden.

On our way past the playgroup hut, just beside one of the supports for the hut was a stack of magazines, the kind of which we'd never seen before. We took them and hid out in the trench further along.

After thumbing through them in wonderment for a while, we were spotted by a bigger kid who came over and proclaimed that we were too young to be looking at these magazines and threatened to beat us up if we didn't clear off, so we did.

On the way back down the pathway with our tails between our legs we decided this wasn't fair. So we walked round to the pavement side of the vicar's garden. As we thought, being much older and bigger than us he was way easier to spot in the trench than we were.

We started waving madly towards the kid in the trench, in full view of the vicar's front window. As the vicar came out to see what was going on we scarpered, but the bigger kid, who was obviously getting more out of the mags than we were (they were pretty much lost on me at that age), hadn't noticed any of this until the vicar shouted over to him.

The look on the kid's face was priceless!

(Oh, and this is my first post! Yay!!)
( christonamoped, Tue 1 May 2007, 18:45, Reply)