Reflecting more on the wotsit post earlier yesterday I remembered about another incident involving piss and exceptional embarrassment that I’d now like to share with you all.
This happened many years ago, when I was young and not covered in piss.
Picture the scene, living in a flat, with communal hallway. I had ordered an Indian Takeaway as you do.
Being young and unable to control myself piss-wise, I had a little accident in the bathroom, and managed to spray piss all over my trousers. Again. As you do.
“BING BONG!” goes the intercom, signalling arrival of tasty takeaway food.
I lurch out of the bathroom, furiously dabbing at my trousers. The girlfriend is on sofa watching TV. I shout “Can you get the door? I’m covered in piss!!!” at the top of my voice.
Typically, she says “No”, so I furiously dab more at the trousers as I get to the front door. “I’m all covered in piss!” I complain.
I then open the front door….. expecting then to run to the main door and let the delivery guy in.
And you can guess the rest, can’t you?
Door opens. I look up. OMG. It’s the delivery dude.
We never re-ordered from there.
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