Lee Valley
27-02-2006, 12:40
Ahhhh... friday nights... you gotta love em.
I spend the entire week working my arse off in ridiculously hot temperatures (I work in a Leisure Centre as a Lifeguard, so it's 30'c all day, every day) and I have to endure the countless complaints from customers telling me that either a) there's shit in the pool which I have to retrieve, b) some kid has puked on the floor and I have to mop it up, or c) someone's drowned and I haven't noticed it yet.
So I live for friday's which brings to a close a horrendously shite week, and welcomes me to the weekend which involves lots of drinking.
So there we are, me and about 10 mates in the pub getting pissed on watered down Fosters, Carling, Coors, etc etc. The last orders bell rings and I rush up to the bar to order 4 pints for myself to attempt to drink before the bar staff tell us to go home. I manage three of the pints, and sneak the other one out in my pocket, somehow not drawing the attention of any of the staff who hadn't noticed that I'd clearly managed to stick a full pint glass into my pocket. Could David Blaine pull that off? I think not.
It's a freezing cold evening, but still four of us decide to walk home down a country road...but within the first 100 yards of the journey we decide to go and play with a horse in a field (in a non-sexual way). Why we decided to do this I don't know, but it was a brilliant plan at the time. We climb over a fence which has barbed wiring, and start running after the horse, whilst making horse like noises. It runs away in terror.
So we head back to the road to continue our journey.
Just as my mate tells me that chasing horses is fun, a Range Rover full of Irishmen pulls up in front of us, and out gets a bloke with a BIG f**k off pole, and he's screaming "Yeeee chasing mah horses yer coonts?"... in normal circumstances, we would've probably picked up a weapon of some kind and defended ourselves using our light sabre skill we learnt as kids. But these were certainly not normal circumstances, as not only were we outnumbered heavily, but the opposition already had weapons in hand, and also had a car. So we run away. I clearly remember laughing like a little girl as I was running, despite the fact I was being closely followed by someone with a pole. There's something about danger that sends me into hysterics.
Anyway, we outrun these pikey's and they eventually turn back. We start making our way home, again, and come across the same field we had entered only moments earlier. And there stands the horse we had been chasing, looking at us with a wry smile.
Moral of the story - don't play with horses.
I spend the entire week working my arse off in ridiculously hot temperatures (I work in a Leisure Centre as a Lifeguard, so it's 30'c all day, every day) and I have to endure the countless complaints from customers telling me that either a) there's shit in the pool which I have to retrieve, b) some kid has puked on the floor and I have to mop it up, or c) someone's drowned and I haven't noticed it yet.
So I live for friday's which brings to a close a horrendously shite week, and welcomes me to the weekend which involves lots of drinking.
So there we are, me and about 10 mates in the pub getting pissed on watered down Fosters, Carling, Coors, etc etc. The last orders bell rings and I rush up to the bar to order 4 pints for myself to attempt to drink before the bar staff tell us to go home. I manage three of the pints, and sneak the other one out in my pocket, somehow not drawing the attention of any of the staff who hadn't noticed that I'd clearly managed to stick a full pint glass into my pocket. Could David Blaine pull that off? I think not.
It's a freezing cold evening, but still four of us decide to walk home down a country road...but within the first 100 yards of the journey we decide to go and play with a horse in a field (in a non-sexual way). Why we decided to do this I don't know, but it was a brilliant plan at the time. We climb over a fence which has barbed wiring, and start running after the horse, whilst making horse like noises. It runs away in terror.
So we head back to the road to continue our journey.
Just as my mate tells me that chasing horses is fun, a Range Rover full of Irishmen pulls up in front of us, and out gets a bloke with a BIG f**k off pole, and he's screaming "Yeeee chasing mah horses yer coonts?"... in normal circumstances, we would've probably picked up a weapon of some kind and defended ourselves using our light sabre skill we learnt as kids. But these were certainly not normal circumstances, as not only were we outnumbered heavily, but the opposition already had weapons in hand, and also had a car. So we run away. I clearly remember laughing like a little girl as I was running, despite the fact I was being closely followed by someone with a pole. There's something about danger that sends me into hysterics.
Anyway, we outrun these pikey's and they eventually turn back. We start making our way home, again, and come across the same field we had entered only moments earlier. And there stands the horse we had been chasing, looking at us with a wry smile.
Moral of the story - don't play with horses.