This has really cracked me up
I don’t get it
Did you ever tell anyone?
Just the 6198 users of semi-popular music website drowned in sound dot com.
I didn’t mention it to anyone at the time because, fucking hell, I’d set the village on fire and I was nine! Told a few people at university and at parties and things since, but no-one from the village including my parents.
I once let a dog into my friend’s house that wasn’t his dog
Think I’ve posted this about fifteen times now but I love it. Visited my friend’s great uncle John who emigrated from Airdrie to New York to work in construction.
One morning in the subway “some Hispanic guy” bumped into him heavily on the platform. When he was walking away, John patted down his pockets. His wallet was missing!
John chased the guy down and caught up with him on the stairs. He grabbed him, shoved him against the wall and in full west of Scotland accent growled “The wallet, please.” The guy hands it over and John put it in his pocket without breaking eye contact, then goes on his way to work.
When he gets in to work he gets told his wife had phoned for him earlier. He calls her back and says “you’ll never guess what happened to me on the way to work this morning! Someone tried to steal my wallet on the subway! What were you phoning about anyway?”
She said “John, you left your wallet on the bedside cabinet.”
It was Jerry Sadowitz
pretty close then
I got the last letter right, which is a great effort.
Once panicked and genuinely said “Do i have get down, these are brand new jeans?” to an armed robber.
May well have related either or both of these anecdotes on here before. Both are when I was very new and junior in my job (many moons ago).
I had to draft a will for a client which included a couple of specific artwork bequests, including a painting entitled “Blackcock in heather”. I wasn’t sure whether the name of the bird was one word or two, so I opened Google and typed “black cock”. As I was clicking Search, the realisation of what I was doing, on my work computer, dawned on me. The close window x has never looked so small.
I went on a tour of C. Hoare & Co. (the then still family owned private bank on Fleet Street). Our tour guide was a female relationship manager. At the posh wine and sandwiches bit at the end of the tour, I found myself in a small group talking to her and asked (innocently), “So, to become a partner in the bank do you still have to be a Hoare?” I realised what I was saying as the words were coming out of my mouth, but couldn’t stop myself. Of course, you’ve then got to be totally straight faced so it doesn’t look like you’re a wise guy prick. To be fair to everyone there (including the tour guide and me), no one batted an eyelid.
Imagine if you were caught up in an armed robbery the jeans were probably ruined anyway…