You, too?
Well, when I see my OC Domestic rolling her eyes, then I think, "Hmmm... has she heard the one about 'the only aircraft to make it into Warri Airstrip in thick dust haze that day was mine!' before?" My cue to shut up, and that is me sober!
The thing was, my "When I" colleague could see that his tale was not causing my eyes to light with enthusiasm (after the 50th telling), then he put that down to simple incomprehension on my part. Then he would lean in closer and re-tell it louder, just trying to make me understand. The spit would fly so that I would end up posed like a limbo dancer, bent over backwards trying to stay dry. What booze can do!
The best one was a fellow dressed in flip-flops and a lava-lava, holding a cold, wet, pint bottle of Gulder that was slipping un-noticed downwards as he maundered on, in his cups. I kept trying to direct his attention to the oncoming disaster as he drunkenly persisted in his oft-told tale.
Finally, the neck portion of the bottle came down and made him lose his grasp; then the bottle fell, and hit the deck with a small explosion.
There he was then, posed in the middle of a three-foot circle of beer and shrapnel, goggling at what had suddenly come to pass. I told him, "Stand still!" but he just looked down, took a step, and added blood to the hellish mix.
Last edited by chuks; 1st Jul 2013 at 09:10.