Confession 2....
Flying across the Channel in my Grob 109b - I could only look in admiraton at my new girlfriend sitting there with her long flowing hair, Wayfarers, crop-top and all the other bitz and pieces.
What is it with my bladder?
Suddenly caught bustingly short and with no prospect of relief for another hour or so I found a tatty barf bag in the pocket.
Why did I glug the whole carton of apple-juice just before we set off?
'Avert your gaze my dear and hold this' (the stick! the stick!)
THere I was, filling up this paper bag to the brim whilst doing some horrible contortions in order to achieve it, whilst all the time she was doing a reasonable job of the straight and level bit whilst peering through the cloud of steam out of the stbd. window .
Whew!
I folded the bag, intending to place it on the floor when, horror of horrors, it started to leak quite badly. It really was creased, old and - well - should have been used long before.
Nothing for it - out of the window it had to go.
I slid the CV panel open, slowed the thing up and, base first, pushed the bag through the window.
Whoooooosh!
It was as if somebody had put a high-pressure house through the panel and blasted my girlfriend.
She was absolutely drenched - the cockpit was a mess - we groped around for a towel in a bag behind.
I will always remember her licking her lips with great composure saying - 'I can definately taste the apple-juice.....'
HP
....I have another story........