We are in the pub for Wednesday Night Lads Night. No women allowed. This is because we talk about birds and sex and stuff about football, politics, the weather and absolutely positively not about ‘birds’ and girlfriends and sex*.
The One Who Talks A Lot, is talking a lot, and describing in great detail the problems he is having in the bum area after eating something ‘dodgy’. He leaves and goes to the toilet, while the rest of us finally get to speak and catch up amongst ourselves, like normal people do, with vocal chords. We make the most of these precious moments, as we will obviously be forced into mutedness when TOWTAL returns.
My phone rings. The called ID shows that it is TOWTAL calling me.
“Hello TOWTAL.” I answer, slightly bemused as to why he is phoning me having been sat with me sixty seconds earlier.
“Hello, I err, need some help.”
“Yes?”
“There is no toilet roll in here, but I didn’t notice until, you know, too late. Can you help me? Discretely?”
“Of course!” I answer, whilst standing up with the largest grin I can muster.
“EXCUSE ME!” I announce to the pub. “My friend, TWOTAL, has gone for a number two, and has discovered, too late, that there is no toilet roll in the cubicle. Does anyone have any he can borrow? Or keep, you know, if you don’t want it back afterwards?”
There are giggles. TOWTAL is on the end of the phone, and for once, he is not talking a lot.
“Here, I’ll get you a roll.” offers the not-as-cute-as-the-other-one barmaid.
With that, she hands me an industrial wheel of toilet paper and I take it into the gents, where I knock on the door and shout the secret codewords, “I have got you some TOILET ROLL so you can wipe your BUM HOLE!”
He opens the door, standing there with his pants round his ankles, which is a little disconcerting, and hungrily takes the toilet roll from my grasp.
Several minutes later he reappears, to the continuing chuckles of the pub. He tries to divert attention by telling everyone that, “There is a bloke in the toilet with no paper, poor bugger!” but no-one is believing it. Everybody knows he has been wiping his bum hole.
He sits down and begins talking, whilst the rest of us remain silent for the next 106 minutes until closing time.
* edited at request of TOWTAL.
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14 comments
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Dave · September 7, 2007 at 9:15 am
Oooohhhhh please let us know what you edited!?
ehhehehe
Perhaps next time you could put that bog roll in his pie hole… then you can all talk
Better yet, all learn sign language… that will sort it out
Dave
Free Betting
Kate · September 7, 2007 at 10:39 am
Having spent the last 2 hours on the phone to the ‘bum holes’ at BT, reading this cheered me up no end! Thanks Angry
Angelalala · September 7, 2007 at 10:45 am
Definite fuckwit material. If he had any brains at all he’d have phoned the pub and only had to suffer the barstaff taking the piss.
TOWTAL · September 7, 2007 at 12:00 pm
Any credit for taking the phone with me in the first place? You never know what might happen.
Angry – it’s got to be said that SnookerTableLegs runs me close in the quantity of talking stakes.
PS – it was a good shit
TheBoy · September 7, 2007 at 12:54 pm
Now what you should have done is asked the not as nice as the other barmaid to sort out the issue…
Jo · September 7, 2007 at 1:02 pm
Haha, I wonder what he’d have done if he didn’t have his phone.
Ever wondered why on some public toilet cubicle walls theres a brown streak or two?
Hmmmmm. Always carry your phone, folks.
Funner · September 7, 2007 at 2:11 pm
nice story…
Lolita · September 7, 2007 at 2:43 pm
This story would have gone differently if you’d all been female.
A lot of women would rather use a receipt or post-it from their handbag than admit that they shit.
Admin comment by Mr Angry · September 7, 2007 at 4:31 pm
Dave – I could not say for fear of getting in trouble.
Kate – My pleasure.
Angelalala – I am glad he didn’t do that…
TOWTAL – SnookerTableLegs is known as Quasifrodo round these parts. And I am glad it was a good shit, but how can you talk about it for 20 minutes without drawing breath?
TheBoy – It would have been funny to see him answer the door to her.
Jo – I always check before going, always. It is a mistake you only ever make once (or never ever not at all if you are me)
Funner – Hello, ta.
Lolita – Unfortunately I had left my pad of post-its at home that night. And I use th really small ones, which might be a bit difficult to fold.
TOWTAL · September 7, 2007 at 4:34 pm
Sometimes you’re happy to take the weight off your feet and start straining before you’ve noticed the lack of industrial arse shredding paper.
meredic · September 8, 2007 at 5:09 am
I am getting a strong Australian theme here…..
bendersbetterbrother · September 8, 2007 at 7:23 am
If no-one’s already said….are you quite sure TOWTAL wasn’t you? I mean, like he did in the story , you wouldn’t admit to it would you?
clarissa · September 8, 2007 at 7:45 am
Didn’t you think to say you’d help out and then hang up and wait 1/2 hour or so … so that you and the rest of the lads could have had a little more time chatting about sports and politics?
melanie · September 10, 2007 at 6:50 pm
I do like clarissa’s response. oh yea.
someone is going to have to grow some kahuna’s and talk over towtal. Loudly. and consistently.