As I wend my way home from another day at the grind stone I tire as the wind works against me. I dodge and weave the morons who seem determined to hurl themselves under me wheels but finally make it to my road unscathed. I swing into the little lane that leads to my first front door. As usual of late it’s full of crap: a skip, sacks of building rubble, bricks and so on.
Wait! What’s this, there something new! There appears to be an old man standing there looking suspicious. He’s looking suspicious because he’s having a flaming piss.
He spots me and stops what he’s doing and looks guilty and blurts out:
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t wait. It’s because I’m old…”
“Umm… Yeah ok, whatever”
“I’m old, I could not hold it”
He claims whilst gesticulating wildly.
It’s swiftly apparent, however, that it’s not really his age that’s the problem, it seems more likely that it has something to do with being hammered drunk at 6:07 on a Tuesday evening.
Sadly for him, his slight, drunken, embarrassment was about to increase as a neighbor also appears behind me. He spots her and realises that hanging about making further excuses is probably not the correct course of action.
“I better leave”
“Yes I think you should”
He then staggers past us and the skip to be joined in the street by someone who seems to be an acquaintance. The wander off shouting talking loudly to each other
Now don’t get me wrong, I’m sure I’ve used a dark ally late at night before to relieve ones self, but 6:07 on a bright sunny evening! No and no old man!
The only saving grace was he was using the fence and not the front door.