Thread by @JCautomatic

@elisjames One for the well of shame.

(Apologies for the length.) Last month I travelled to Ipswich, we go there every year as my son is an elite gymnast, which is totally beside the point but I don’t put him on Facebook so I have to brag somewhere...

....my in laws travel EVERYWHERE to see him, they are so proud and rearrange whatever schedule they have to see him, wether they cancel a cruise or a chateaux in the Dordogne nothing is too much for them...

......(I’m digressing.) My mother and father law always book the same hotel as us as it’s a family affair, it’s a very traditional “spa” hotel that sells Carling, you know the type. On this particular gymnastic completion they happened to book a room which...

.....was EXACTLY opposite ours. To set the scene, although directly opposite it was 200 yds away across a car park, yet still hugely visible from our “Garden Room”

The hotel market it as a “garden room” merely so dirty smokers like me can....

......slip out at ground floor and have smoke without polluting the air of the Range Rover drivers on the first floor.

Anyway, after the success of the gym comp, we woke up on the last day of stay, and the two of us slipped outside of our “garden room” for some nicotine, my wife vapes, I’m an arsehole...

.....suddenly “mid vape” my wife notices that at 7:30 am her mum and dad’s hotel window is open. This thrills her......Bearing in mind this is 7:30am on Monday she wants to scare them. The trouble is....

....my wife thinks that the rooms opposite have the same “layout” They don’t. So the open window she thinks is her parent’s ISNT. Being a complete twat who pays attention to rooms per window ratios I decide to let her sneak...

.....200 yds across the hotel car park to the open window of the room opposite knowing FINE FUCKING WELL it’s not her mum and dad’s.....I suddenly think “why are you letting her do this?” but then my popcorn pings in the 850w microwave and I realise why.

.....she snook across the car park to the open window, it was a typical hotel window; open at about 45° with a privacy curtain hanging. As she neared the window she made herself lower so as not to be seen. Meanwhile I’m in hysterics waiting for the carnage....

....eventually she reached the open window and crept below the window ledge (I’m crying with laughter at this stage). She jumped up suddenly into the space of the open window, pulled back the privacy curtain and shouted “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!”.....

....to her horror it wasn’t her mum and dad’s room but a 55 year oldish sales reps room who was just putting his underpants on, needless to say he absolutely shit himself as did my wife, I am now in bits as I hear the muffled screams of utter confusion 200 yards away.....

....my wife turned and scarpered back to our room after trying to explain to a man on the floor with his underpants round his ankles that she’d got the wrong room...

(Fast forward 2hrs to 9am)

Cases packed and still chuckling to myself audibly much to my wife’s disgust we load the car and set off for the long drive from Ipswich to Newcastle.....

....we set off and turn left out of the hotel overflow car park into the hotel’s main car park. Suddenly my wife say’s “OH SHIT!!! The man who she terrified earlier that morning is putting his cases into the boot of his Vauxhall Insignia....

....she does not want to confront him again. He hasn’t seen us as he has his back to us loading the car. I say to my wife that she should really apologise for scaring him and that she thought it was her mum and dad’s room. She agrees, lowers her window and I slow down....

....the man, still oblivious continues to load his car. Just as my wife is about to say “excuse me” I take complete leave of my senses and shout “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!” at him. He completely shits himself again and twats the top of his head off the tailgate of his car....

....I hit the accelerator and speed off out of the car park crying with laughter again, through the tears I look in the rear view mirror to see him shaking his fist at us like Basil Fawlty. At this point I am in actual pain with laughter, which is....

...quite the juxtaposition to my wife seething with rage in the passenger seat at what I have just done to the poor man. Eventually she calms down although every few miles I burst out laughing at the image of him banging his head and shaking his fist....

....needless to say this is not the ideal state to be driving in so I pootle along in the slow lane of the motorway at 60mph. We eventually reach the services an hour and a half down the road. By now through the laughter and drinking too much coffee before we left....

....I am absolutely dying for a piss. I pull in to the services and park up and get out of the car. Walking quickly so I don’t piss myself I head toward the toilets. To my horror the man who’s life we have had this morning is also walking towards the toilets....

...he must have overtaken us on the motorway like a modern day hare and tortoise. I can’t avoid not going to the toilet as my bladder is going to explode at this point. I keep my distance and decide that I am going to scuttle into cubicles for a piss and wait until he’s....

...finished at the urinals before I exit. The man enters the toilet and to my delight he enters a cubicle. I imagine he was in need of a nice relaxing poo after his traumatic morning. As my bladder cannot hold much longer I have to use the first urinal I come to....

....time seems to stand still as I start what is probably the longest piss of my life. I hum the Mission Impossible music in my head hoping he doesn’t finish before I do and clock me at the urinals. Fortunately he doesn’t and I do my trousers up and turn to leave....

....Just I am about to leave, the “devil on my shoulder” says “DO IT!” I simply can’t resist, so I with an almighty THWACK I kick the toilet door of the cubicle and shout what has now almost become a catchphrase “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!”....

....I hear the man cry out in horror, “JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!” as tear out of the toilets and sprint like Usain Bolt across the service station car park, as I start to approach the car I shout to my wife and son who are in a little play park “GET IN THE CAR, GET IN THE CAR”...

...confused as hell she says “what is it?” I reply from 10yds away “THE MAN, THE MAN!” noticing the panic on my face she quickly rounds up my son into the car, we belt up which seemed to take an eternity due to the panic....

....My wife merely thinks he’s seen us but as I drive off I explain what if I’ve just done to him again laughing hysterically as I do wondering what state he was in the cubicle. The image of him in my head inside the toilet sitting there pants down and getting the shock of...

....his life has me in bits. My wife is far from impressed and bollocked me for the next 200 miles home. It was a very long drive home.

FIN @elisjames