My personal favourite was following one of the midday Millwall ko’s about 15-20 of us ended up after the game down the Fanny on the Hill in welling. Very very drunk. About 7, 8 o clock I’m organising probably the fourth whip of the day and everyone chucked their notes in. All a bit of a blur after that but I ended up in a cab to another pub in Bexley.
Next day put my jeans on and discovered a pocket full of notes. I’d effectively done a runner with the whip without buying a single person a drink. Never been allowed near a whip since !
Has no one ever used the phrase "It's your round, get them in"?
And @addickted we were in France and I bought you and @Imissthepeanutman a Kir each as you'd never had one before. Should have known it would be wasted on you.
PS who paid for the dodgems that night? Still makes me laugh.
Yeah - you everytime your glass is empty.
I never mentioned who it was that decided on a serious session one of us would chose a girls aperitif. If you were paying I'd try a drop of aviation fuel = that was one hell of a good session. I think we warmed up with a few bottles of Barolo which always pleases me when I'm in France as the locals struggle to understand how good Italian wine is.
I remember nothing about that night after 1.00am and the shooting range.
I do remember telling some local to 'do one' when he wanted me to move my car at some god awful early hour so he could set up his market stall. The state I was in I think they just set up around the car rather than disturb me further.
Has no one ever used the phrase "It's your round, get them in"?
And @addickted we were in France and I bought you and @Imissthepeanutman a Kir each as you'd never had one before. Should have known it would be wasted on you.
PS who paid for the dodgems that night? Still makes me laugh.
Yeah - you everytime your glass is empty.
I never mentioned who it was that decided on a serious session one of us would chose a girls aperitif. If you were paying I'd try a drop of aviation fuel = that was one hell of a good session. I think we warmed up with a few bottles of Barolo which always pleases me when I'm in France as the locals struggle to understand how good Italian wine is.
I remember nothing about that night after 1.00am and the shooting range.
I do remember telling some local to 'do one' when he wanted me to move my car at some god awful early hour so he could set up his market stall. The state I was in I think they just set up around the car rather than disturb me further.
For some reason after many, many drinks we all thought going on the dodgems at 3.00 am would be a good idea. Surprised we could walk across the square let along drive them.
yes, the irate French market trader waking me up by banging on the door and demanding we move your Range Rover.
You were your usual accommodating and diplomatic self and but yes, you did move the car.
I have one or two faults but not getting my round in has never been one of them which is why I don't mind reminding others.
A group of us, about 25 or so years ago, used to meet up at the Bee Hive in New Eltham every Thursday night. One particular bloke would turn up at 10.00 and the first thing he would say is "right lads whose round is it?"
At 10.55 and two or three rounds later he would make his apologies and say that he had to go - without getting a round in. After a couple of months of doing this it was explained to him that this was not particularly good form.
On a slightly different topic & maybe should be a thread of its own..........tipping - and by this I specifically mean barbers / hair salons or whatever they're called nowdays. I still feel guilty if I don't tip the women at my local barbers but at £12 I feel this is a fair enough amount to pay. Am I a tight-wad not to tip them or is tipping barbers now old-fashioned. The establishment in question is owned by the lady & so its her business & she sets the prices. I don't mind tipping waiters/waitresses as they are on minimal wages & any tip I leave is commensurate with the service I feel they've given. Same goes for any pizza / fast food deliveries but for someone who's business it is I just think its now outdated.
Tipping is all well and good if the service is up to scratch, I've no problem with that. However, we went to a burger place on green lanes, burger & bun, or something like that. Started a tab when I went to the bar for drinks, no table service. Ordered food at the bar and was then called to pick it up. Ordered another round of drinks and carried them back from the bar myself. Went to the bar to settle up and was asked if I'd like to tip! Felt pressured as there were three or four people behind the jump, so ended up adding a fiver to the bill for no reason! Wasn't cheap either for me, the wife and our two kids! What a mug!
Out for drinks after work, mate who was notoriously tight surprised everyone and said ‘let’s go to one of the dodgy pubs down Shorditch’. So off a group trotted down there.
After the first parade the girl went round with her pint glass, and everyone put their 50p (you can tell this is an old story!) in apart the bloke whose suggestion it was, who stood primly with his hands in his pockets. She said something to him and he come out with the legendary line “love, I’ve just popped in for a quiet drink after work. If you want to take you clothes off then that’s entirely up to you”.
I heard a similar story from a mate, with a slightly different ending.
The ending was he said he wasn't interested or taking part, so she relieved him off his beer bottle, placed it somewhere giving it a good old twist and handed it back, saying "well you are now".
Out for drinks after work, mate who was notoriously tight surprised everyone and said ‘let’s go to one of the dodgy pubs down Shorditch’. So off a group trotted down there.
After the first parade the girl went round with her pint glass, and everyone put their 50p (you can tell this is an old story!) in apart the bloke whose suggestion it was, who stood primly with his hands in his pockets. She said something to him and he come out with the legendary line “love, I’ve just popped in for a quiet drink after work. If you want to take you clothes off then that’s entirely up to you”.
I heard a similar story from a mate, with a slightly different ending.
The ending was he said he wasn't interested or taking part, so she relieved him off his beer bottle, placed it somewhere giving it a good old twist and handed it back, saying "well you are now".
Out for drinks after work, mate who was notoriously tight surprised everyone and said ‘let’s go to one of the dodgy pubs down Shorditch’. So off a group trotted down there.
After the first parade the girl went round with her pint glass, and everyone put their 50p (you can tell this is an old story!) in apart the bloke whose suggestion it was, who stood primly with his hands in his pockets. She said something to him and he come out with the legendary line “love, I’ve just popped in for a quiet drink after work. If you want to take you clothes off then that’s entirely up to you”.
I heard a similar story from a mate, with a slightly different ending.
The ending was he said he wasn't interested or taking part, so she relieved him off his beer bottle, placed it somewhere giving it a good old twist and handed it back, saying "well you are now".
Had a cracking time in Amsterdam playing slip cricket at a bar with ping pong balls, she achieved an incredible velocity and yes we did tip her!!
Out for drinks after work, mate who was notoriously tight surprised everyone and said ‘let’s go to one of the dodgy pubs down Shorditch’. So off a group trotted down there.
After the first parade the girl went round with her pint glass, and everyone put their 50p (you can tell this is an old story!) in apart the bloke whose suggestion it was, who stood primly with his hands in his pockets. She said something to him and he come out with the legendary line “love, I’ve just popped in for a quiet drink after work. If you want to take you clothes off then that’s entirely up to you”.
I heard a similar story from a mate, with a slightly different ending.
The ending was he said he wasn't interested or taking part, so she relieved him off his beer bottle, placed it somewhere giving it a good old twist and handed it back, saying "well you are now".
Had a cracking time in Amsterdam playing slip cricket at a bar with ping pong balls, she achieved an incredible velocity and yes we did tip her!!
Never had an issue with the round avoiders just as I never have and issue with the I got the last round in last time. if I want a drink I won't bother about whose round it is I'll just get one and ask anyone else if they want one.
I almost drew the line when a well known poster on here wanted a Kir (white wine and creme de cassis).
However, when a group come to settle a drinks bill at the end of the evening I absolutely hate the I only had this, he had a double, I only had one glass out of the bottle, I was on water brigade. You're out with a group of friends/colleagues just split the bill however many ways. I actually find it embarrassing.
This has happened I n the last two years with our Christmas meal at work. I've just handed over my credit card and said pay me back whatever when I see you next. Needless the say, only the same few have given me a donation (one was a bottle of Rum, so well happy) and a thank you, but most haven't even bothered with the latter. I wouldn't normally mind but it was £372 this year.
They probably think I claim it back on expenses - if only.
Out for drinks after work, mate who was notoriously tight surprised everyone and said ‘let’s go to one of the dodgy pubs down Shorditch’. So off a group trotted down there.
After the first parade the girl went round with her pint glass, and everyone put their 50p (you can tell this is an old story!) in apart the bloke whose suggestion it was, who stood primly with his hands in his pockets. She said something to him and he come out with the legendary line “love, I’ve just popped in for a quiet drink after work. If you want to take you clothes off then that’s entirely up to you”.
I heard a similar story from a mate, with a slightly different ending.
The ending was he said he wasn't interested or taking part, so she relieved him off his beer bottle, placed it somewhere giving it a good old twist and handed it back, saying "well you are now".
Had a cracking time in Amsterdam playing slip cricket at a bar with ping pong balls, she achieved an incredible velocity and yes we did tip her!!
oh I bet you did!
It was a stag do, so there was plenty of tipping all round, the best bit was that the groom had a previously undiscovered latex allergy!!!
Mates uncle took a utility company to court over 5p. They reckoned they couldn't deal with such small amounts, the magistrate basically told them to just pay him, they owed him. Doubt he covered his costs.
One of our partners is really right. Once questioned a side order of mushrooms on an expenses claim for several days of work travel.
Older boss was even tighter. I was once made to spend hours haggling over some trifling sum with an associate (bearing in mind my hourly rate rate about £200per hour at the time...). He also expected VAT receipts for pints of milk
Had a manager once many years ago quibble over a bottle of water I'd ordered on room service after spending a week working away and staying in a hotel in the middle of nowhere.
I told her that I didn't fancy the 40 minute round trip walk to the nearest Spar to get one and the remaining shards of dignity I had managed to retain prevented me from suckling from the hotel bathroom faucet like a new born calf that has somehow blagged a room in the Peterborough Marriott every time I wished to quench my thirst.
She reluctantly sigend it off and we never spoke of "watergate" ever again.
Never had an issue with the round avoiders just as I never have and issue with the I got the last round in last time. if I want a drink I won't bother about whose round it is I'll just get one and ask anyone else if they want one.
I almost drew the line when a well known poster on here wanted a Kir (white wine and creme de cassis).
However, when a group come to settle a drinks bill at the end of the evening I absolutely hate the I only had this, he had a double, I only had one glass out of the bottle, I was on water brigade. You're out with a group of friends/colleagues just split the bill however many ways. I actually find it embarrassing.
This has happened I n the last two years with our Christmas meal at work. I've just handed over my credit card and said pay me back whatever when I see you next. Needless the say, only the same few have given me a donation (one was a bottle of Rum, so well happy) and a thank you, but most haven't even bothered with the latter. I wouldn't normally mind but it was £372 this year.
They probably think I claim it back on expenses - if only.
I have a mate who is so tight that he actually has got to a point where it causes him really bad anxiety just to carry cash.
Numerous times we have gone into a pub or nightclub where you need cash for entry/beer and he will make some excuse to not go to the cash point. Last time it was "there is somebody standing in the way of it", when in fact it was just someone queuing to use it.
Like a mug I end up paying his entry with cash into the club.
His speciality is then getting to the cloakroom and realising they only take cash, and then having to ask a girl in the queue behind him if he can "borrow £2". It has happened twice in the last year, and he is absolute murder for this sort of thing in everyday life.
Remember when I was at Orpington College in mid 90s going on a week away field trip to Port Talbot in darkest south Wales. Spent a week knocking about with the same crowd and had a right laugh. End of the week got the 7 hour (or whatever it was) coach back to the college absolutely cream crackered and laden with a week's luggage and week's worth of hangover so didn't fancy the walk back to mine at other end of Orpington on a Friday night.
Wanted to phone home for a lift and it being the days before mobiles had to use a payphone. Rooted through pockets and literally only had 5p left and the call cost 10p back then.
At this point was just me and one of the lads who was supposedly a pal after that week and having been pally at college with him before the trip and he was waiting for his parents to pick him up. I asked him if he could lend me 10p to make a call and that I would give him the 5p I had so effectively he'd only be lending me 5p until I saw him Monday and I'd repay the difference.
He refused bluntly stating he'd be 5p out of pocket until then and was having none of it. His mum turned up at that point and he bid me a cheery "See ya Monday mate" as he got in the nice warm motor leaving my feeble 16 year old frame to lug my bags all the way home in the sodden rain through the gauntlet of Friday night Orpington high street at kicking out time.
Still recall the act of utter tighness regularly over 20 plus years later.
I think being tight is one of the most unattractive character traits anyone can have. I would find it very difficult to maintain a friendship with anyone that took the piss in that respect.
I think being tight is one of the most unattractive character traits anyone can have. I would find it very difficult to maintain a friendship with anyone that took the piss in that respect.
That and not paying a bet, or owing money and knocking.
I think being tight is one of the most unattractive character traits anyone can have. I would find it very difficult to maintain a friendship with anyone that took the piss in that respect.
That and not paying a bet, or owing money and knocking.
Wimbledon away last season still waiting for me change
Remember when I was at Orpington College in mid 90s going on a week away field trip to Port Talbot in darkest south Wales. Spent a week knocking about with the same crowd and had a right laugh. End of the week got the 7 hour (or whatever it was) coach back to the college absolutely cream crackered and laden with a week's luggage and week's worth of hangover so didn't fancy the walk back to mine at other end of Orpington on a Friday night.
Wanted to phone home for a lift and it being the days before mobiles had to use a payphone. Rooted through pockets and literally only had 5p left and the call cost 10p back then.
At this point was just me and one of the lads who was supposedly a pal after that week and having been pally at college with him before the trip and he was waiting for his parents to pick him up. I asked him if he could lend me 10p to make a call and that I would give him the 5p I had so effectively he'd only be lending me 5p until I saw him Monday and I'd repay the difference.
He refused bluntly stating he'd be 5p out of pocket until then and was having none of it. His mum turned up at that point and he bid me a cheery "See ya Monday mate" as he got in the nice warm motor leaving my feeble 16 year old frame to lug my bags all the way home in the sodden rain through the gauntlet of Friday night Orpington high street at kicking out time.
Still recall the act of utter tighness regularly over 20 plus years later.
Prick.
Hope you managed to get the twat back in some way.
Remember when I was at Orpington College in mid 90s going on a week away field trip to Port Talbot in darkest south Wales. Spent a week knocking about with the same crowd and had a right laugh. End of the week got the 7 hour (or whatever it was) coach back to the college absolutely cream crackered and laden with a week's luggage and week's worth of hangover so didn't fancy the walk back to mine at other end of Orpington on a Friday night.
Wanted to phone home for a lift and it being the days before mobiles had to use a payphone. Rooted through pockets and literally only had 5p left and the call cost 10p back then.
At this point was just me and one of the lads who was supposedly a pal after that week and having been pally at college with him before the trip and he was waiting for his parents to pick him up. I asked him if he could lend me 10p to make a call and that I would give him the 5p I had so effectively he'd only be lending me 5p until I saw him Monday and I'd repay the difference.
He refused bluntly stating he'd be 5p out of pocket until then and was having none of it. His mum turned up at that point and he bid me a cheery "See ya Monday mate" as he got in the nice warm motor leaving my feeble 16 year old frame to lug my bags all the way home in the sodden rain through the gauntlet of Friday night Orpington high street at kicking out time.
Still recall the act of utter tighness regularly over 20 plus years later.
Prick.
Hope you managed to get the twat back in some way.
Yep. His mum came back and met me after dropping Timmy Tightbollocks off at home counting his pennies*
Remember when I was at Orpington College in mid 90s going on a week away field trip to Port Talbot in darkest south Wales. Spent a week knocking about with the same crowd and had a right laugh. End of the week got the 7 hour (or whatever it was) coach back to the college absolutely cream crackered and laden with a week's luggage and week's worth of hangover so didn't fancy the walk back to mine at other end of Orpington on a Friday night.
Wanted to phone home for a lift and it being the days before mobiles had to use a payphone. Rooted through pockets and literally only had 5p left and the call cost 10p back then.
At this point was just me and one of the lads who was supposedly a pal after that week and having been pally at college with him before the trip and he was waiting for his parents to pick him up. I asked him if he could lend me 10p to make a call and that I would give him the 5p I had so effectively he'd only be lending me 5p until I saw him Monday and I'd repay the difference.
He refused bluntly stating he'd be 5p out of pocket until then and was having none of it. His mum turned up at that point and he bid me a cheery "See ya Monday mate" as he got in the nice warm motor leaving my feeble 16 year old frame to lug my bags all the way home in the sodden rain through the gauntlet of Friday night Orpington high street at kicking out time.
Still recall the act of utter tighness regularly over 20 plus years later.
Prick.
Hope you managed to get the twat back in some way.
Yep. His mum came back and met me after dropping Timmy Tightbollocks off at home counting his pennies*
*this part may have only happened in my head.
To be fair I’d have made it my life’s mission to bang his Mum, film it and then force the tight fucker to watch it.
So, having married a woman who I fancied the arse off – to be clear to @AFKABartram and @Carter this woman is not my fucking sister! - my BIL then proceeds to make her life a misery for the next 15 years.
His tightness – despite the fact he was now earning $200,000 per year – was showing no signs of easing up and was actually getting worse.
To give you an idea of his tightness – remembering the bloke is in the top 5% of wage earners in the country - he.....
• Refused to send his kids to the Catholic school because it cost a whopping $1,500/year in fees – choosing instead to send them to the local sink-hole state school where they both struggled
• Refused to let his missus have the third child she had always wanted because, “These kids already cost me a fortune.”
• Banned all family activities like going to the movies or tenpin bowling: “I can download movies off the net for free.”
• Did not take a single holiday away from home for 15 years: “We’ve already got great beaches only an hour’s drive away.”
• Would ask guests to “bring your own meat” when hosting a family BBQ – this is considered very rude in Oz as I imagine it is in the UK.
• Gave his missus the same present for every Christmas and birthday – a $50 gift card for Myer (like Debenhams)
….anyway after about 15 years of pure misery his missus – who bore an uncanny resemblance to Reece Witherspoon – was getting sick of him and regularly complaining to my missus about what an arsehole he was.
Then things got interesting, very interesting indeed.
They met a lesbian couple through their kids school and began hanging out together regularly and then my BIL got posted out to India to work away from home in 3-4 week blocks, which his missus was over the moon about.
We live in a relatively small town and a lot of people knew my SIL and would mention to me that they had seen her out having coffee or lunch with one of these lesbian girls, let’s call her Karen.
Now, being a suspicious fucker and an absolute sexual deviant my imagination starts running wild and I start getting the feeling that my SIL may well be indulging in a spot of carpet munching with Karen who, upon further investigation, it turned out had actually “turned” her last three partners from straight relationships.
I shared my suspicions with my missus and she called me a “filthy pervert” but I just KNEW something was not quite right, sometimes you can just tell.
Anyway a couple of weeks later the marriage breaks up, my SIL moves out with the kids to her Mum’s place saying she doesn’t love him any longer etc….I was happier than Karl Robinson at an all-you-can-eat Chinese buffet.
The lesbian couple then moved to Sydney as Karen had to be close to her two kids from a previous relationship, although her partner, let’s call her Kate, was actually working as a lawyer in Qatar so only came back to Sydney once every couple of months.
My BIL and SIL agreed to share their two kids 50-50 on a week-on, week-off basis but he noticed that the kids would tell him nothing about what they did when they were with my SIL – she had obviously told them to keep schtum about what she was up to.
What he DID notice was that it was really hard to contact my SIL on her ‘off’ weekends, she was frequently un-contactable and her family would always be evasive when he asked them where she was, he would often need to contact her about kids medical stuff etc.
Now, I had already made my position quite clear that there was clearly some serious lesbianic activity taking place between my SIL and Karen but nobody was buying it – until suddenly, on a Tuesday fucking morning of all times, the penny dropped in spectacular fashion.
He got woken up early by a banging on the front door, he opens it up to find a tearful Kate (whose Mum lived nearby) clutching a sheaf of papers and saying, “It’s time you knew the truth…..”
She comes indoors and says that, yes, the SIL and Karen, have been having an affair for OVER A YEAR!!! The papers she had were all emails, love letters etc that she had found on Karen’s email account which she had logged into from Qatar having guessed the password.
She was naturally furious but he was apparently somewhat nonplussed since she had sacked him off a couple of months ago anyway and there was nothing he could really do about it – that’s when fate took another hilarious twist.
As he is talking to Kate the postman turns up so he goes and picks up the mail and his credit card statement is there, being the tightest fucker on the planet he is the sort of bloke that immediately pores over every line of it trying to dispute something that he can claim he has been wrongly charged for.
So, as Kate the wronged lesbian is pouring her heart out about the great betrayal they have both suffered he is engrossed in his fucking credit card statement…and then he sees it….
June 30th – Victoria’s Secret Sydney Airport - $299
….and the penny fucking drops!
Having covered her tracks very nicely indeed his ex-missus has obviously fucked up and bought some very nice lingerie at the airport on her way to see her feminine paramour but has mistakenly put it on their joint-account credit card (which they still used for joint kid-related expenses) rather than her own card.
Well, as you can imagine, he hit the fucking roof and started ranting and raving at the kitchen table about what a fucking bitch she was, how he could never forgive her for betraying him and so on – but he was only bothered about the $300 lingerie on the credit card, he was completely oblivious to the adultery part!
So, he gets on the phone to my SIL – first time they’d spoken in months, everything was by text – and starts giving her dogs abuse about the lingerie and how she’d better pay him the money back or she’d be getting a call from his lawyer and, if necessary, he'd call the fucking old bill!!!
The funniest thing about it is that he relayed all this to my missus completely deadpan, he was genuinely more gutted about the $300 lingerie on his credit card than by the fact his missus had been having it away with a woman for a year in an affair which had basically ended their marriage and broken their family up.
I’d like to say it was unbelievable but I was not remotely surprised by his reaction!
Of course, I was left with a far bigger problem, I already fancied the arse off my SIL when she was just the girl-next-door sweet and innocent type, I now have to try and live my life knowing that this foxy little Reece Witherspoon look-a-like also conducts rampant and illicit lesbian activity whilst wearing $300 worth of Victoria’s Secret lingerie.
I haven’t been able to concentrate on a single thing since it happened.
Along the lines of AFKA and I don't think I'm tight but once found myself in a curry house late with two of us left standing. Another was throwing up in the gutter outside, one had been in the gents for a good 15 minutes and a 3rd was asleep at the table with his hair in his meal. What would you do? I did the only sensible thing, I called the waiter and said 'I don't know these people, I just want to pay my bill and leave'. Think everyone eventually pulled themselves together but they never allowed me to forget it.
So, having married a woman who I fancied the arse off – to be clear to @AFKABartram and @Carter this woman is not my fucking sister! - my BIL then proceeds to make her life a misery for the next 15 years.
His tightness – despite the fact he was now earning $200,000 per year – was showing no signs of easing up and was actually getting worse.
To give you an idea of his tightness – remembering the bloke is in the top 5% of wage earners in the country - he.....
• Refused to send his kids to the Catholic school because it cost a whopping $1,500/year in fees – choosing instead to send them to the local sink-hole state school where they both struggled
• Refused to let his missus have the third child she had always wanted because, “These kids already cost me a fortune.”
• Banned all family activities like going to the movies or tenpin bowling: “I can download movies off the net for free.”
• Did not take a single holiday away from home for 15 years: “We’ve already got great beaches only an hour’s drive away.”
• Would ask guests to “bring your own meat” when hosting a family BBQ – this is considered very rude in Oz as I imagine it is in the UK.
• Gave his missus the same present for every Christmas and birthday – a $50 gift card for Myer (like Debenhams)
….anyway after about 15 years of pure misery his missus – who bore an uncanny resemblance to Reece Witherspoon – was getting sick of him and regularly complaining to my missus about what an arsehole he was.
Then things got interesting, very interesting indeed.
They met a lesbian couple through their kids school and began hanging out together regularly and then my BIL got posted out to India to work away from home in 3-4 week blocks, which his missus was over the moon about.
We live in a relatively small town and a lot of people knew my SIL and would mention to me that they had seen her out having coffee or lunch with one of these lesbian girls, let’s call her Karen.
Now, being a suspicious fucker and an absolute sexual deviant my imagination starts running wild and I start getting the feeling that my SIL may well be indulging in a spot of carpet munching with Karen who, upon further investigation, it turned out had actually “turned” her last three partners from straight relationships.
I shared my suspicions with my missus and she called me a “filthy pervert” but I just KNEW something was not quite right, sometimes you can just tell.
Anyway a couple of weeks later the marriage breaks up, my SIL moves out with the kids to her Mum’s place saying she doesn’t love him any longer etc….I was happier than Karl Robinson at an all-you-can-eat Chinese buffet.
The lesbian couple then moved to Sydney as Karen had to be close to her two kids from a previous relationship, although her partner, let’s call her Kate, was actually working as a lawyer in Qatar so only came back to Sydney once every couple of months.
My BIL and SIL agreed to share their two kids 50-50 on a week-on, week-off basis but he noticed that the kids would tell him nothing about what they did when they were with my SIL – she had obviously told them to keep schtum about what she was up to.
What he DID notice was that it was really hard to contact my SIL on her ‘off’ weekends, she was frequently un-contactable and her family would always be evasive when he asked them where she was, he would often need to contact her about kids medical stuff etc.
Now, I had already made my position quite clear that there was clearly some serious lesbianic activity taking place between my SIL and Karen but nobody was buying it – until suddenly, on a Tuesday fucking morning of all times, the penny dropped in spectacular fashion.
He got woken up early by a banging on the front door, he opens it up to find a tearful Kate (whose Mum lived nearby) clutching a sheaf of papers and saying, “It’s time you knew the truth…..”
She comes indoors and says that, yes, the SIL and Karen, have been having an affair for OVER A YEAR!!! The papers she had were all emails, love letters etc that she had found on Karen’s email account which she had logged into from Qatar having guessed the password.
She was naturally furious but he was apparently somewhat nonplussed since she had sacked him off a couple of months ago anyway and there was nothing he could really do about it – that’s when fate took another hilarious twist.
As he is talking to Kate the postman turns up so he goes and picks up the mail and his credit card statement is there, being the tightest fucker on the planet he is the sort of bloke that immediately pores over every line of it trying to dispute something that he can claim he has been wrongly charged for.
So, as Kate the wronged lesbian is pouring her heart out about the great betrayal they have both suffered he is engrossed in his fucking credit card statement…and then he sees it….
June 30th – Victoria’s Secret Sydney Airport - $299
….and the penny fucking drops!
Having covered her tracks very nicely indeed his ex-missus has obviously fucked up and bought some very nice lingerie at the airport on her way to see her feminine paramour but has mistakenly put it on their joint-account credit card (which they still used for joint kid-related expenses) rather than her own card.
Well, as you can imagine, he hit the fucking roof and started ranting and raving at the kitchen table about what a fucking bitch she was, how he could never forgive her for betraying him and so on – but he was only bothered about the $300 lingerie on the credit card, he was completely oblivious to the adultery part!
So, he gets on the phone to my SIL – first time they’d spoken in months, everything was by text – and starts giving her dogs abuse about the lingerie and how she’d better pay him the money back or she’d be getting a call from his lawyer and, if necessary, he'd call the fucking old bill!!!
The funniest thing about it is that he relayed all this to my missus completely deadpan, he was genuinely more gutted about the $300 lingerie on his credit card than by the fact his missus had been having it away with a woman for a year in an affair which had basically ended their marriage and broken their family up.
I’d like to say it was unbelievable but I was not remotely surprised by his reaction!
Of course, I was left with a far bigger problem, I already fancied the arse off my SIL when she was just the girl-next-door sweet and innocent type, I now have to try and live my life knowing that this foxy little Reece Witherspoon look-a-like also conducts rampant and illicit lesbian activity whilst wearing $300 worth of Victoria’s Secret lingerie.
I haven’t been able to concentrate on a single thing since it happened.
Great story, you have a fantastic way of telling it!
So, having married a woman who I fancied the arse off – to be clear to @AFKABartram and @Carter this woman is not my fucking sister! - my BIL then proceeds to make her life a misery for the next 15 years.
His tightness – despite the fact he was now earning $200,000 per year – was showing no signs of easing up and was actually getting worse.
To give you an idea of his tightness – remembering the bloke is in the top 5% of wage earners in the country - he.....
• Refused to send his kids to the Catholic school because it cost a whopping $1,500/year in fees – choosing instead to send them to the local sink-hole state school where they both struggled
• Refused to let his missus have the third child she had always wanted because, “These kids already cost me a fortune.”
• Banned all family activities like going to the movies or tenpin bowling: “I can download movies off the net for free.”
• Did not take a single holiday away from home for 15 years: “We’ve already got great beaches only an hour’s drive away.”
• Would ask guests to “bring your own meat” when hosting a family BBQ – this is considered very rude in Oz as I imagine it is in the UK.
• Gave his missus the same present for every Christmas and birthday – a $50 gift card for Myer (like Debenhams)
….anyway after about 15 years of pure misery his missus – who bore an uncanny resemblance to Reece Witherspoon – was getting sick of him and regularly complaining to my missus about what an arsehole he was.
Then things got interesting, very interesting indeed.
They met a lesbian couple through their kids school and began hanging out together regularly and then my BIL got posted out to India to work away from home in 3-4 week blocks, which his missus was over the moon about.
We live in a relatively small town and a lot of people knew my SIL and would mention to me that they had seen her out having coffee or lunch with one of these lesbian girls, let’s call her Karen.
Now, being a suspicious fucker and an absolute sexual deviant my imagination starts running wild and I start getting the feeling that my SIL may well be indulging in a spot of carpet munching with Karen who, upon further investigation, it turned out had actually “turned” her last three partners from straight relationships.
I shared my suspicions with my missus and she called me a “filthy pervert” but I just KNEW something was not quite right, sometimes you can just tell.
Anyway a couple of weeks later the marriage breaks up, my SIL moves out with the kids to her Mum’s place saying she doesn’t love him any longer etc….I was happier than Karl Robinson at an all-you-can-eat Chinese buffet.
The lesbian couple then moved to Sydney as Karen had to be close to her two kids from a previous relationship, although her partner, let’s call her Kate, was actually working as a lawyer in Qatar so only came back to Sydney once every couple of months.
My BIL and SIL agreed to share their two kids 50-50 on a week-on, week-off basis but he noticed that the kids would tell him nothing about what they did when they were with my SIL – she had obviously told them to keep schtum about what she was up to.
What he DID notice was that it was really hard to contact my SIL on her ‘off’ weekends, she was frequently un-contactable and her family would always be evasive when he asked them where she was, he would often need to contact her about kids medical stuff etc.
Now, I had already made my position quite clear that there was clearly some serious lesbianic activity taking place between my SIL and Karen but nobody was buying it – until suddenly, on a Tuesday fucking morning of all times, the penny dropped in spectacular fashion.
He got woken up early by a banging on the front door, he opens it up to find a tearful Kate (whose Mum lived nearby) clutching a sheaf of papers and saying, “It’s time you knew the truth…..”
She comes indoors and says that, yes, the SIL and Karen, have been having an affair for OVER A YEAR!!! The papers she had were all emails, love letters etc that she had found on Karen’s email account which she had logged into from Qatar having guessed the password.
She was naturally furious but he was apparently somewhat nonplussed since she had sacked him off a couple of months ago anyway and there was nothing he could really do about it – that’s when fate took another hilarious twist.
As he is talking to Kate the postman turns up so he goes and picks up the mail and his credit card statement is there, being the tightest fucker on the planet he is the sort of bloke that immediately pores over every line of it trying to dispute something that he can claim he has been wrongly charged for.
So, as Kate the wronged lesbian is pouring her heart out about the great betrayal they have both suffered he is engrossed in his fucking credit card statement…and then he sees it….
June 30th – Victoria’s Secret Sydney Airport - $299
….and the penny fucking drops!
Having covered her tracks very nicely indeed his ex-missus has obviously fucked up and bought some very nice lingerie at the airport on her way to see her feminine paramour but has mistakenly put it on their joint-account credit card (which they still used for joint kid-related expenses) rather than her own card.
Well, as you can imagine, he hit the fucking roof and started ranting and raving at the kitchen table about what a fucking bitch she was, how he could never forgive her for betraying him and so on – but he was only bothered about the $300 lingerie on the credit card, he was completely oblivious to the adultery part!
So, he gets on the phone to my SIL – first time they’d spoken in months, everything was by text – and starts giving her dogs abuse about the lingerie and how she’d better pay him the money back or she’d be getting a call from his lawyer and, if necessary, he'd call the fucking old bill!!!
The funniest thing about it is that he relayed all this to my missus completely deadpan, he was genuinely more gutted about the $300 lingerie on his credit card than by the fact his missus had been having it away with a woman for a year in an affair which had basically ended their marriage and broken their family up.
I’d like to say it was unbelievable but I was not remotely surprised by his reaction!
Of course, I was left with a far bigger problem, I already fancied the arse off my SIL when she was just the girl-next-door sweet and innocent type, I now have to try and live my life knowing that this foxy little Reece Witherspoon look-a-like also conducts rampant and illicit lesbian activity whilst wearing $300 worth of Victoria’s Secret lingerie.
I haven’t been able to concentrate on a single thing since it happened.
Great story, you have a fantastic way of telling it!
Agreed, most people would have told both stories by saying
"I'd love to fuck my ex Sister in law, especially now she's a horny little rug muncher"
Comments
I never mentioned who it was that decided on a serious session one of us would chose a girls aperitif. If you were paying I'd try a drop of aviation fuel = that was one hell of a good session. I think we warmed up with a few bottles of Barolo which always pleases me when I'm in France as the locals struggle to understand how good Italian wine is.
I remember nothing about that night after 1.00am and the shooting range.
I do remember telling some local to 'do one' when he wanted me to move my car at some god awful early hour so he could set up his market stall. The state I was in I think they just set up around the car rather than disturb me further.
yes, the irate French market trader waking me up by banging on the door and demanding we move your Range Rover.
You were your usual accommodating and diplomatic self and but yes, you did move the car.
I have one or two faults but not getting my round in has never been one of them which is why I don't mind reminding others.
When all the current shit (CAFC and otherwise) is over we can drag Clive and Cliff and a few others over to have another go.
The ending was he said he wasn't interested or taking part, so she relieved him off his beer bottle, placed it somewhere giving it a good old twist and handed it back, saying "well you are now".
I told her that I didn't fancy the 40 minute round trip walk to the nearest Spar to get one and the remaining shards of dignity I had managed to retain prevented me from suckling from the hotel bathroom faucet like a new born calf that has somehow blagged a room in the Peterborough Marriott every time I wished to quench my thirst.
She reluctantly sigend it off and we never spoke of "watergate" ever again.
Any jobs going at your place?
Numerous times we have gone into a pub or nightclub where you need cash for entry/beer and he will make some excuse to not go to the cash point. Last time it was "there is somebody standing in the way of it", when in fact it was just someone queuing to use it.
Like a mug I end up paying his entry with cash into the club.
His speciality is then getting to the cloakroom and realising they only take cash, and then having to ask a girl in the queue behind him if he can "borrow £2". It has happened twice in the last year, and he is absolute murder for this sort of thing in everyday life.
Wanted to phone home for a lift and it being the days before mobiles had to use a payphone. Rooted through pockets and literally only had 5p left and the call cost 10p back then.
At this point was just me and one of the lads who was supposedly a pal after that week and having been pally at college with him before the trip and he was waiting for his parents to pick him up. I asked him if he could lend me 10p to make a call and that I would give him the 5p I had so effectively he'd only be lending me 5p until I saw him Monday and I'd repay the difference.
He refused bluntly stating he'd be 5p out of pocket until then and was having none of it.
His mum turned up at that point and he bid me a cheery "See ya Monday mate" as he got in the nice warm motor leaving my feeble 16 year old frame to lug my bags all the way home in the sodden rain through the gauntlet of Friday night Orpington high street at kicking out time.
Still recall the act of utter tighness regularly over 20 plus years later.
Prick.
*this part may have only happened in my head.
So, having married a woman who I fancied the arse off – to be clear to @AFKABartram and @Carter this woman is not my fucking sister! - my BIL then proceeds to make her life a misery for the next 15 years.
His tightness – despite the fact he was now earning $200,000 per year – was showing no signs of easing up and was actually getting worse.
To give you an idea of his tightness – remembering the bloke is in the top 5% of wage earners in the country - he.....
• Refused to send his kids to the Catholic school because it cost a whopping $1,500/year in fees – choosing instead to send them to the local sink-hole state school where they both struggled
• Refused to let his missus have the third child she had always wanted because, “These kids already cost me a fortune.”
• Banned all family activities like going to the movies or tenpin bowling: “I can download movies off the net for free.”
• Did not take a single holiday away from home for 15 years: “We’ve already got great beaches only an hour’s drive away.”
• Would ask guests to “bring your own meat” when hosting a family BBQ – this is considered very rude in Oz as I imagine it is in the UK.
• Gave his missus the same present for every Christmas and birthday – a $50 gift card for Myer (like Debenhams)
….anyway after about 15 years of pure misery his missus – who bore an uncanny resemblance to Reece Witherspoon – was getting sick of him and regularly complaining to my missus about what an arsehole he was.
Then things got interesting, very interesting indeed.
They met a lesbian couple through their kids school and began hanging out together regularly and then my BIL got posted out to India to work away from home in 3-4 week blocks, which his missus was over the moon about.
We live in a relatively small town and a lot of people knew my SIL and would mention to me that they had seen her out having coffee or lunch with one of these lesbian girls, let’s call her Karen.
Now, being a suspicious fucker and an absolute sexual deviant my imagination starts running wild and I start getting the feeling that my SIL may well be indulging in a spot of carpet munching with Karen who, upon further investigation, it turned out had actually “turned” her last three partners from straight relationships.
I shared my suspicions with my missus and she called me a “filthy pervert” but I just KNEW something was not quite right, sometimes you can just tell.
Anyway a couple of weeks later the marriage breaks up, my SIL moves out with the kids to her Mum’s place saying she doesn’t love him any longer etc….I was happier than Karl Robinson at an all-you-can-eat Chinese buffet.
The lesbian couple then moved to Sydney as Karen had to be close to her two kids from a previous relationship, although her partner, let’s call her Kate, was actually working as a lawyer in Qatar so only came back to Sydney once every couple of months.
My BIL and SIL agreed to share their two kids 50-50 on a week-on, week-off basis but he noticed that the kids would tell him nothing about what they did when they were with my SIL – she had obviously told them to keep schtum about what she was up to.
What he DID notice was that it was really hard to contact my SIL on her ‘off’ weekends, she was frequently un-contactable and her family would always be evasive when he asked them where she was, he would often need to contact her about kids medical stuff etc.
Now, I had already made my position quite clear that there was clearly some serious lesbianic activity taking place between my SIL and Karen but nobody was buying it – until suddenly, on a Tuesday fucking morning of all times, the penny dropped in spectacular fashion.
He got woken up early by a banging on the front door, he opens it up to find a tearful Kate (whose Mum lived nearby) clutching a sheaf of papers and saying, “It’s time you knew the truth…..”
She comes indoors and says that, yes, the SIL and Karen, have been having an affair for OVER A YEAR!!! The papers she had were all emails, love letters etc that she had found on Karen’s email account which she had logged into from Qatar having guessed the password.
She was naturally furious but he was apparently somewhat nonplussed since she had sacked him off a couple of months ago anyway and there was nothing he could really do about it – that’s when fate took another hilarious twist.
As he is talking to Kate the postman turns up so he goes and picks up the mail and his credit card statement is there, being the tightest fucker on the planet he is the sort of bloke that immediately pores over every line of it trying to dispute something that he can claim he has been wrongly charged for.
So, as Kate the wronged lesbian is pouring her heart out about the great betrayal they have both suffered he is engrossed in his fucking credit card statement…and then he sees it….
June 30th – Victoria’s Secret Sydney Airport - $299
….and the penny fucking drops!
Having covered her tracks very nicely indeed his ex-missus has obviously fucked up and bought some very nice lingerie at the airport on her way to see her feminine paramour but has mistakenly put it on their joint-account credit card (which they still used for joint kid-related expenses) rather than her own card.
Well, as you can imagine, he hit the fucking roof and started ranting and raving at the kitchen table about what a fucking bitch she was, how he could never forgive her for betraying him and so on – but he was only bothered about the $300 lingerie on the credit card, he was completely oblivious to the adultery part!
So, he gets on the phone to my SIL – first time they’d spoken in months, everything was by text – and starts giving her dogs abuse about the lingerie and how she’d better pay him the money back or she’d be getting a call from his lawyer and, if necessary, he'd call the fucking old bill!!!
The funniest thing about it is that he relayed all this to my missus completely deadpan, he was genuinely more gutted about the $300 lingerie on his credit card than by the fact his missus had been having it away with a woman for a year in an affair which had basically ended their marriage and broken their family up.
I’d like to say it was unbelievable but I was not remotely surprised by his reaction!
Of course, I was left with a far bigger problem, I already fancied the arse off my SIL when she was just the girl-next-door sweet and innocent type, I now have to try and live my life knowing that this foxy little Reece Witherspoon look-a-like also conducts rampant and illicit lesbian activity whilst wearing $300 worth of Victoria’s Secret lingerie.
I haven’t been able to concentrate on a single thing since it happened.
Apparantly it's bricks.
"I'd love to fuck my ex Sister in law, especially now she's a horny little rug muncher"