True story
You know what it’s like, you’re young, the sun’s out and you head towards your local to see who else has come out to play…
Well, by midday Saturday, around 30 of the usual crew had arrived at our second home, and everyone was full of expectations of another daft afternoon. After the general ribbing was out of the way, and the first pint had been sunk, the inane group-chats would ensue. I was sitting outside at the front of the pub, at a table, with a dozen other friends around me.
Just beyond our table was the car park, and it was customary for one of us to open the boot of their car and turn on the radio so we could listen to the Kenny Everett show, on Capital Radio. (If you’ve never heard of Kenny Everett, look him up on the net, he had a great sense of the absurd, and was the first DJ to give Bohemian Rhapsody, by Queen, airtime.)
Anyway, during a lull in the banter, two of the crowd stood up with out a word spoken, and walked towards the the roadside. After a few minutes the rest of us began to wonder what they were up to, and fired a salvo of drunken comments to that effect, but they didn’t reply.
Eventually they crossed the road, pints still in hand, and then made tracks towards the edge of Epping Forest, which was literally opposite the pub. I wasn’t sure if what happened next was caused by the heat of the day or copious amounts of lager or a combination of both, but for some reason they both disappeared into the undergrowth giggling like a couple of school kids.
From our prime position we could hear a whole bunch of high-pitched girly squealing emanating from the forest’s edge, and the overall group thought was, “What the fuck are they up too?” We still didn’t have a visual on them at this stage, but what we could see bore all the hallmarks of a Benny Hill sketch.
Branches began to move independently, even though there wasn’t a hint of a breeze. Twigs and leaves began to fall to the ground, and all of this was interspersed with hysterical laughter, which eventually spread to our table. Suddenly, two heads appeared above the branches looking indifferent directions, one of them shouted, “GO”, and they both jumped out from behind the tree and made their way back to us stark bollock naked, pints still in hand! Why? Only they knew that.
Fits of raucous laughter broke out immediately as they stopped by the roadside and casually lent against the street sign chatting to one another. All verbal contact was impossible as they were to far away from us, but from sip to swig they raised their glasses at us and smiled as they took in the view, as did a cluster of cyclist when they shot past them!
As their pints were running low they decide to give us a final performancebefore disappearing back into the foilage to retrieve their cloths, so to finish what they had started, they began flashing their down-belows at as many motorists as possible.
There was much waving and stretching of wedding tackle, followed by the pressing of warm goolies on the drivers and passengers side windows as the traffic slowed down and stopped. Well it had to stop, as one or both of them were blocking the road! It was an unbelievable sight and, again, tears of laughter were shed, and what I found the most surprising was – no one reported the incident to the police!
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