Friday, May 26, 2006


In my last role I was responsible for a call centre down in Bristol. It meant a lot of travel to that not so fair city, and last year I had to decamp there for a month in the middle of summer. I was reorganising, and having asked the previous operations director to leave I had a gap before the new one I’d found could start. Meant I had to manage directly. I generally consider this a good thing, it gets me much more in touch with the organisations I oversee.

Spending the week living out of a hotel in Bristol? Not my idea of a holiday, especially as the timing meant we had to defer a family holiday we’d planned. LL was not well pleased, it was a dark moment in our marital history.

Still, it had its moments. One particularly balmy night I’d taken a book and had a rather delightful meal on a barge in the river. It meant sitting under the darkening skies, with the sound of water, a cool breeze, a good book, and a not so bad bottle of wine.

So, slightly sozzled I started to make my way back to the hotel. As I was walking past the castle a young man ran up to me, a look of panic on his face. This long rambling self absorbed story fell out of his mouth. He was a student in Bath, had come to meet some friends, but had parked his car in the wrong place. It had been towed, and with it went his wallet that he’d locked in the glove box. The kind men in the police depot needed ID to let him near the car, but his ID was in the car. He was really sorry, but could I lend him the cost of the train fare back to Bath? If I left him my details he’d be sure to mail it back.

I laughed and handed him a fiver. Either he really was in need, or it was one of the best cons I’d come across and it was worth it for the entertainment value. However, I didn’t give him my details… It’s a story I’ve frequently lunched on, so was worth every penny I gave him, regardless of his need.

So, still sozzled, but now quietly amused, I carried on my path. As I was walking along I noticed a man ahead of me. He was in track suit bottoms, sandals, but not top. It was a warm night, so I didn’t thing too much about it. Then I looked again, his walk was funny, his arms tight up against his body. I assumed he was high and quickened my pace. This one wouldn’t get any money out of me.

As I came abreast of him I looked over and stumbled. Sure enough his eyes were glazed, but not how I thought they should be?

“Want some?”

“Ah… not tonight thanks.” With a laugh I carried on. The offer wasn’t a tab of acid, but his cock in full display as he wanked while he walked.

Next day I was sympathetically informed by the women that such things are all too common in Bristol. The men where generally outraged and uncomfortable, such things aren’t supposed to happen to men. There’s naught so strange as folk.


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