On Large People
Guntfuggle reminds me of a startling but great display of tactlessness on the part of my little brother.

Let's see now, I would have been about 12, and my brother about 8. Our father at the time was a railway modeller and was exhibiting his models at a deeply beardy show in Telford, so my mother took us to Ironbridge, home of the world's first iron bridge, some pig iron works and an excellent 'working village' museum. It used to be highly recommended, but I went back a few years ago and it was looking scruffier than I remember, so take your own chances.

Anyway, back in the day, this was a really quality day out. We watched iron being smelted, walked across the famous bridge, spent an entertaining couple of hours in the company of hard-up actors pretending to be Victorian pharmacists and schoolteachers, and wandered around the museum, with its colourful tales of the life of miners and other local notables.

And then we went to the pub. It was thankfully family-friendly and served a mean fishfinger 'n' chips. We were just mopping up the last of the ketchup, when someone across the pub caught my brother's eye:

"Mum! Mum! Look! It's that REALLY FAT MAN we saw at the museum today"

This was delivered in a shrill and Coca-cola-fuelled voice in what was a reasonably quiet pub, full of murmuring gents and quiet romantic couples.

I may have only been twelve, but I still remember with glee what happened next. The first thing was complete, immutable silence as every single conversation simultaneously stopped. Next, even better, was a sort of congenital head-tilting as every man and woman around the bar tried to simultaneously locate the tactless pre-pubescent and - more importantly - the comically large man to whom he was referring, without appearing at all obvious or rude. There must have been a good 15 seconds of neck-craning, subtle gesturing and covert finger-pointing, and all the while every man in the pub weighing over 16 stone tried to suck in their guts and adopt a posture of nonchalant surprise.

We left the pub rather hurriedly. It turned out my brother was referring to a picture of the notorious 'John Bull' - a 35-stone metalworker who had lived some 150 years earlier and we had indeed seen portrayed in the museum. But never has a pub been left more full of mutual suspicion than that day.
( ousgg is not seeking approval, Mon 7 Nov 2011, 8:42, 4 replies)

*click*
Superbly told.
( Pig Bodine., Mon 7 Nov 2011, 10:13, closed)

I just got told off for giggling by the missus after the bairns been off to bed for this 1!

(Misery McUglywife an attention seeking sociopathic fuckstain., Mon 7 Nov 2011, 12:01, closed)

Brilliant

( shinyshinyscalp less a man, more a way of life, Mon 7 Nov 2011, 17:22, closed)

Best so far
*click*
( Blind Meach Cautiously optimistic, Wed 9 Nov 2011, 16:32, closed)