A short sch-long story.....
you wanna pint sir?neigh
So it was Saturday evening and I was pouring wine for two women as they waited for another couple to join them. They were in a jovial mood and had clearly already enjoyed a snifter or two of the barman's apron.
"Honestly Janice, he's like a horse."
"For real?"
"I swear to God. LIKE. A. HORSE."
"And how long.....", she paused to taste the wine. I had no idea where this conversation was going. But I was just as intrigued as Janice.
".....has she been going out with him?" Phew, I can live without other peoples pee pee measurements.
"About 4 weeks now. They don't leave the house. They are in all the time. She's just stopped going out."
"Well if he's like a horse why would you go out?" They both broke into a very dirty laugh.
I was taking my time with the pouring of the wine. This was quality entertainment.
"Oh God we need to stop it, they'll be here in a minute." Said Janice. It was at this point they both realised I was still there.
"You must think we're awful, but just you wait, he'll be here in a minute. He's is a HORSE."
"Eh?"
Why was he like a horse? The only time I've heard the horse/man euphemism is in relation to the size of his, well you know, his schlong.
How the hell would I find out if he was horse like? There are some things I just don't need to know. Good grief I always assumed some women talk about wieners but this was frighteningly frank for my liking. And the assumption/ threat that I would find out really had me scared. How big was it? Did I need to set a place for it? I felt bad for the supersized circus freak and he hadn't even arrived yet.
I withdrew, no pun intended, with a very red face. Obviously I went straight to my work chums and shared the news of the imminent arrival of the man with the fantastic phallic. I have to be honest this was a very weird conversation. But we all waited with baited breath for the man with the third leg.
And we waited.
And then we got bored.
And finally we just gave up and got on with our work much to the delight of the rest of the restaurant. By this time Janice and her mate had consumed most their wine and were now making horsie noises.
When he finally arrived there was a veritable chorus of, "Oh that's what they meant." Our Centaur was not hung like a horse. Instead he was endowed with the teeth and mouth of a horse. So I strapped a bag round his ears and left them to it safe in the knowledge that the biggest dick in the restaurant was me.
"Honestly Janice, he's like a horse."
"For real?"
"I swear to God. LIKE. A. HORSE."
"And how long.....", she paused to taste the wine. I had no idea where this conversation was going. But I was just as intrigued as Janice.
".....has she been going out with him?" Phew, I can live without other peoples pee pee measurements.
"About 4 weeks now. They don't leave the house. They are in all the time. She's just stopped going out."
"Well if he's like a horse why would you go out?" They both broke into a very dirty laugh.
I was taking my time with the pouring of the wine. This was quality entertainment.
"Oh God we need to stop it, they'll be here in a minute." Said Janice. It was at this point they both realised I was still there.
"You must think we're awful, but just you wait, he'll be here in a minute. He's is a HORSE."
"Eh?"
Why was he like a horse? The only time I've heard the horse/man euphemism is in relation to the size of his, well you know, his schlong.
How the hell would I find out if he was horse like? There are some things I just don't need to know. Good grief I always assumed some women talk about wieners but this was frighteningly frank for my liking. And the assumption/ threat that I would find out really had me scared. How big was it? Did I need to set a place for it? I felt bad for the supersized circus freak and he hadn't even arrived yet.
I withdrew, no pun intended, with a very red face. Obviously I went straight to my work chums and shared the news of the imminent arrival of the man with the fantastic phallic. I have to be honest this was a very weird conversation. But we all waited with baited breath for the man with the third leg.
And we waited.
And then we got bored.
And finally we just gave up and got on with our work much to the delight of the rest of the restaurant. By this time Janice and her mate had consumed most their wine and were now making horsie noises.
When he finally arrived there was a veritable chorus of, "Oh that's what they meant." Our Centaur was not hung like a horse. Instead he was endowed with the teeth and mouth of a horse. So I strapped a bag round his ears and left them to it safe in the knowledge that the biggest dick in the restaurant was me.
