It's the lobster one - again
Some years ago I was working with a great bunch of guys who were the epitome of the 'work hard, play a billion times harder' ethos.
We'd secured a mahoosive contract to supply a large Danish company with some serious hardware and, as I was the 'Engineer' of the company it fell to me to be there when it arrived - fuck knows why, I wasn't doing anything to it but hey ho.
I'd been on the lash with the guys in the departure airport for quite a while when the flight was called and I was 'quite refreshed'. Luckily I was allowed on to the plane into first class, whereupon I was given more booze. And then more booze - rinse and repeat.
The plane was then diverted to Schipol - where I hit the complimentary (at the time - dunno if it's free now) first-class bar. An hour later, now 'heavily refreshed' I got on a plane to Copenhagen.
On bumbling out of baggage claim in Copenhagen I was at a loose end for a while until the car we'd re-booked could come for me.
I don't remember getting from Copenhagen to Roskilde. I don't remember booking into the hotel. I don't remember getting to my room.
I DO remember waking up thinking I'd got a Somali refugee camp in my mouth and a drummer's convention in my head. In my bleary state I looked for a familiar room landmark to let me have at least an idea of which country I was in. Luckily there was a brochure from the hotel on the nightstand next to a polystyrene box bound with blue tape that clearly I'd put there the previous night.
I opened it the box.

There was a lobster inside.

I looked again.

Still a lobster.

Where the fuck did I get a lobster? WHY the fuck did I have a lobster on my nightstand?
I had not a scooby, no frickin' idea.
I closed the box, went for breakfast and waited for my car to the factory, brooding on the fact that I had a/ clearly bought a lobster and b/ what the fuck was I doing with it?
I gave it to the hotel kitchen. They looked at me like I was a pissed Englishman trying to pass off a lobster to them - and they were right.
All was revealed when my lift came. It's not easy to raise the subject of random lobsters on your nightstand - to a man who has only just met you - but raise it I did.
Apparently there are lobster salespeople in Copenhagen airport who sell lobsters to travellers. I'd bought one and promptly forgotten, Thank god I didn't think it was a kebab!
(Captain Placid 24/7 ball gags, brownie mix and clown porn, Tue 29 Apr 2014, 6:54, 4 replies)

Is this story about a kebab?

( d.r._and_quinch when will you be famous?, Tue 29 Apr 2014, 9:35, closed)

was it a live lobster??

( rachelswipe with a fork, Tue 29 Apr 2014, 12:29, closed)

exactly the same thing happened to me
except I caught crabs from a Geordie on Barry island.
( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Tue 29 Apr 2014, 12:32, closed)

It was a claws
in your contract.
(username failed moderation, Tue 29 Apr 2014, 12:41, closed)