Seconds of Seconds in the month of May – and Still Standing!

Memorable. Awkward. I’m running down East Street, shouting ‘Stop that wan***! Stop that wan***! Steggsy’s nicked off with the Ladies’ toilet roll!’ And, all the time, I’m trying to hang onto my jeans, in a futile attempt to keep them hanging low, and avoid falling victim to any brown staining. But it’s a waste of time. I look like an complete fruit-loop, and Steggsy’s long-since gone! There’s nothing else for it. I sneak back into The Tap – everyone’s looking at me – and I grab the last remaining bar towel, before I hurtle back to the Ladies’.

By the time I’ve managed to dispose of the bar towel down the Ladies’ sanitary disposal system, Ali Warwood’s up there on the stage, extolling the benefits of being a new mother. Seems that a baby’s as good as having a disabled friend, when it comes to parking at Tesco, but it’s not so good if it’s a hairy baby, and you get taken as a doppelganger for Nicola Sturgeon’s mother! But, I’m still a little traumatised by my recent experience, and I cannot help but think about another advantage of having a baby and visiting Tesco – because at least, at Tesco, if there’s no bog roll, you can grab one of their free nappies from the ‘Mother & Baby’ room, and, once torn into useable strips, it can be disposed of down the sanitary system. But, I digress. Back to Ali …

But, Ali’s gone, and we’re now listening to Lucy Thompson, who’s kicking off her Edinburgh Preview act with a poem about her worst school dinner experience – ‘sheep’s turd wallpaper paste masquerading as apple pie’. And I wonder whether I should have attempted to strip off some of The Brewery Tap’s wallpaper, before I resorted to wiping my bum with a bar towel. Funny, my concentration’s not so hot today – I must refocus…

And Lucy’s telling us how she has to hold it all in for an hour, during stand-ups, before dashing off to the toilet for a sit-down, and a secretive downing of another pint of Aspall’s and red. None of this is helping me. I’m laughing my head off, and it’s creating a  problem. For, I too have been downing a pint of Aspall’s, and it’s done nothing for my own bladder. It’s alright for Lucy – she’s just a young’un – us older ladies – who’ve already had our share of baby popping – us older ladies have our issues! It’s no good. By this time, I’m guffawing, and I’ve completely lost it! I’m out of control and my bladder’s out of control; the Tap’s out of bog roll, and it doesn’t even provide free nappies – let alone free incontinence pads!

I do the only thing I can do in the circumstances, and tie my cardigan around my waist – a make-shift skirt that covers all evils!

Lucy’s now carrying on about how her girlfriend dumped her in the Lake District and made off with the only tube of toothpaste. With bad breath and a broken heart, Lucy boarded the train for home all on her lonesome-ownsome and cried. Ahhhh! And we’re supposed to feel sorry for you Lucy. Well, next time – be grateful! Be grateful and thank the Lord! Because, at least – at least she didn’t make off with your bog roll – and at least,  you got to sit down on the train with a clean bum and a dry ‘****’!

Lucy was lovely. And Lucy was luscious. But, I had some serious cleaning-up to do, so, at this stage of the proceedings, I did the right thing – and departed company with my new friends Ali and Lucy, wishing them well for the future, and offering Lucy a few words of advice for her trip to the Edinburgh Fringe. Take a spare toothbrush, and guard it closely, and, if you want to hold your audience for the full duration, always carry on your person – a spare bog roll!

If you enjoyed this blog and you’d like to be on some of the action yourself. Bring yourself, a friend, and a spare bog roll, down to The Brewery Tap, Sudbury, Suffolk, on the first Wednesday of every month. The comedians take the stand from 8pm. Entry is free. Donations are, however, welcome in aid of Prostate Cancer Research.

News flash! Tickets are now on sale for a big comedy spectacular in aid of Prostate Cancer Research, on Wednesday 31st May, at the Ipswich Hotel. Come and help men stand up against cancer!

Published by The Silly-Savvy Salopian

Freelance writer and descendant of the cave dweller and outlaw, Humphrey Kynaston. Banished from Shropshire for my eccentricity, I have made my home in Suffolk. I write poetry, short stories, travel journals, comedy gig reviews and non-fiction articles. My wish is to write my way back into the heart of my birth land. All writing commissions (and free holidays in Shropshire!) considered.

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