Erm hello
Whilst on a recent night out I was enjoying the usual consumption of the beers and felt the usual sudden desperate need for a wee. I strolled into the toilets breaking my intense concentration, aimed at keeping me walking straight, long enough to look up and see all the urinals were in use. No problem, thinks I, for look, the last cubicle in the row has the door open. Get in!

And get in I tried to do, only to be greeted by the heart warming sight of a charver (chav to you non-northerners) straining out a difficult shit. Yes the lovely young man had left the door open so everyone walking past had a lovely view. Charver? Charmer more like.

The bad thing was that such was my level of drunkenness (and desperation for a wee of course) my brain only caught up with what was going on when I was standing directly in front of him undoing my fly.

The only thing I could think of to say was "Erm hello." and then left the cubicle as quick as possible.

Worse still was standing waiting for one of the urinals to become free in a 'I just nearly got my cock out two inches away from the face of a bloke having a shit, but I'm definitely not gay and definitely not looking at your bits while I'm waiting to go, honest' sort of way.
( Gleeballs is mostly made out of chocolate and hate., Mon 5 Sep 2005, 21:07, Reply)