I wish he hadn't said that.
Sgt's Mess bar, RAF Kinloss, 1988. Several young sgt aircrew having a beer at happy hour are joined by a hairy old Chief Tech. At about six pm, two old dears, probably WO's wives, arrive in the bar, order G+Ts and start playing the friut machine.
Young sgts and CT continue consuming ale and the language starts to get a bit fruity which draws disaproving looks and lots of 'tutting' from the two old dears.
More beers, more language, more 'tutting'.
On the stroke of 7 pm, the barman wanders over to the group of aircrew and says, 'sorry lads, no uniforms in the bar after 7, you'll have to go to the Scuffs' No problem, the lads start to exit the bar, but on the way out, the hairy old CT mooches over to the two old dears and says,
'Sorry about the language ladies, but you know what these f**kin' aircrew are like!'
Last edited by Seymour Belvoir; 4th Mar 2008 at 05:20.
Reason: pedantry