Your Funniest Travel Story - Fictional or 2nd Hand is OK
Dec 17th, 2004, 03:11 PM
#41
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I love this thread.
Here's another story of mine, which I think I wrote on this board a few years ago.
I rented a car when I was visiting the Chicago area for work. My parents lived on the 17th floor of a condo bldg in the city, and I drove to their place for dinner. After dinner, I had to return to my suburban hotel, so I went out to my little rental car and tried to open the door. The doors would not open. It was a very cold night and I thought the locks had frozen. Just my luck, a police car was across the street. I went over and asked the officer if he could help me get into my car. He came over and started jiggling with the lock. It was then I noticed another sporty little red car parked a couple of cars ahead, and realized we were trying to get into the wrong car....oooh.
Here's another story of mine, which I think I wrote on this board a few years ago.
I rented a car when I was visiting the Chicago area for work. My parents lived on the 17th floor of a condo bldg in the city, and I drove to their place for dinner. After dinner, I had to return to my suburban hotel, so I went out to my little rental car and tried to open the door. The doors would not open. It was a very cold night and I thought the locks had frozen. Just my luck, a police car was across the street. I went over and asked the officer if he could help me get into my car. He came over and started jiggling with the lock. It was then I noticed another sporty little red car parked a couple of cars ahead, and realized we were trying to get into the wrong car....oooh.
Dec 17th, 2004, 06:16 PM
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Prior to taking a long hike with my wife in Canyonlands National Park, I used the bathroom at the camping ground. When I reached for the door handle to leave, I noticed a scribbled note: "This doesn't always unlock."
If you are the person who wrote that note, I can verify that you weren't joking. However, it would have been a lot more helpful if you had written it on the outside of the door, not the inside.
If you are the person who wrote that note, I can verify that you weren't joking. However, it would have been a lot more helpful if you had written it on the outside of the door, not the inside.
Dec 17th, 2004, 08:07 PM
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This was several years ago, one of our earliest cruise adventures--Princess cruises thru the Panama Canal, Ft. Lauderdale to L.A.
First night on board, waves are so bad it's all we can do to pull ourselves to the dinner table. We do go down, and find ourselves having an enjoyable evening with our new tablemates, even though I'll mention for storytelling that the majority of people on board were 60+ and in bed by 10:00 p.m. At this time, I was early 30's and probably one of the five youngest people on board.
As we're leaving our table for the evening, the restaurant maitre'd approaches us and asks if we'd be interesting in sitting at the Captain's table. My husband and I strangely look at each other--we had no idea back then that there even was a "Captain's" table. Evidently, there is great demand and requests to sit at the "Captain's" table. So we look at Mario (the maitre'd) and say, well, "What for? What would we have to do?" "Well, nothing, but it is a great honor to sit at the Captain's table". Hubby and I look at each other, again puzzled, and try to carry on a private conversation that goes something like, "Well, I don't know, do you want to--well, gee, I don't know, what do you think...well, we really kind of like the people we had dinner with tonight". Because we assume this is going to be a stuffy situation, we look Mario square in the face and tell him, "We're not really sure we want to sit at this table."
Meanwhile, Mario has this puzzled and dismayed look on his face--he admits he has never encountered this situation (two young dimwits) before when asking this question and can't believe what he is hearing. We found out later, he is normally hounded by the "older" folks for this honor, and he saw us as nice, young couple and thought it would be nice to bestow this gesture to us. LOL, after asking him if we could think about it overnight, he kept trying to reassure us that this really was something we should consider and would enjoy.
So, the next day, we went down to the restaurant and informed Mario that we'd accept the invitation. It did turn out to be one of the most enlightening vacations we've had. The captain was from Scottland, and there were two other couples at the table, one couple was from England. We heard so many stories from the captain and others at the table, but the best part was sharing in all the perks that the captain received. Specially ordered entrees not listed on the menu and other items prepared tableside, wine with dinner as ordered by the captain--whatever his pleasure was, the staff did cartwheels to meet his requests. And if you've ever cruised, you know the level of service--this was exponentially higher...
My husband insists to this day they wanted a "young" lady to be seated by the captain which is why we were chosen. I don't know why, for sure, but it turned out to be a great adventure and something we laughed about for years afterward.
First night on board, waves are so bad it's all we can do to pull ourselves to the dinner table. We do go down, and find ourselves having an enjoyable evening with our new tablemates, even though I'll mention for storytelling that the majority of people on board were 60+ and in bed by 10:00 p.m. At this time, I was early 30's and probably one of the five youngest people on board.
As we're leaving our table for the evening, the restaurant maitre'd approaches us and asks if we'd be interesting in sitting at the Captain's table. My husband and I strangely look at each other--we had no idea back then that there even was a "Captain's" table. Evidently, there is great demand and requests to sit at the "Captain's" table. So we look at Mario (the maitre'd) and say, well, "What for? What would we have to do?" "Well, nothing, but it is a great honor to sit at the Captain's table". Hubby and I look at each other, again puzzled, and try to carry on a private conversation that goes something like, "Well, I don't know, do you want to--well, gee, I don't know, what do you think...well, we really kind of like the people we had dinner with tonight". Because we assume this is going to be a stuffy situation, we look Mario square in the face and tell him, "We're not really sure we want to sit at this table."
Meanwhile, Mario has this puzzled and dismayed look on his face--he admits he has never encountered this situation (two young dimwits) before when asking this question and can't believe what he is hearing. We found out later, he is normally hounded by the "older" folks for this honor, and he saw us as nice, young couple and thought it would be nice to bestow this gesture to us. LOL, after asking him if we could think about it overnight, he kept trying to reassure us that this really was something we should consider and would enjoy.
So, the next day, we went down to the restaurant and informed Mario that we'd accept the invitation. It did turn out to be one of the most enlightening vacations we've had. The captain was from Scottland, and there were two other couples at the table, one couple was from England. We heard so many stories from the captain and others at the table, but the best part was sharing in all the perks that the captain received. Specially ordered entrees not listed on the menu and other items prepared tableside, wine with dinner as ordered by the captain--whatever his pleasure was, the staff did cartwheels to meet his requests. And if you've ever cruised, you know the level of service--this was exponentially higher...
My husband insists to this day they wanted a "young" lady to be seated by the captain which is why we were chosen. I don't know why, for sure, but it turned out to be a great adventure and something we laughed about for years afterward.
Dec 17th, 2004, 11:04 PM
#44
I was in Portland Oregon last week, and went to this huge Chritmas expo with my very tall, Irish friend Kat and my tiny japanese-ancestry Mother in law.
We had separated, and Kat was trying a wine sample when my MIL walked up to her and said how is it? Kat said "it's pretty good, try it", handed MIL her cup, then wandered off. The vendor just about lost it as MIL took a swig, thinking two strangers had shared her wine sample!
We had separated, and Kat was trying a wine sample when my MIL walked up to her and said how is it? Kat said "it's pretty good, try it", handed MIL her cup, then wandered off. The vendor just about lost it as MIL took a swig, thinking two strangers had shared her wine sample!
Dec 18th, 2004, 11:46 AM
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Years ago in a Paris cafe, I went to the back to use the bathroom. It was a unisex room with one door for men and one for women, with a sink in the small common area. The women's area was in use and as I needed to go NOW, I went into the vacant men's area.
The Turkish toilet, aka; hole in the floor wasn't a surprise, but the teeny tiny room was completely dark, and try as I could, I couldn't find the light switch.
As you women know, wearing jeans/pants and trying to use one of those dreaded holes, is almost impossible. There is no room to undress, so you have to go with your pants at half-mast.
I finally gave up on the light switch and realized that I had no other choice but to go in total darkness and risk falling in.
With one hand on the door, holding it ever so slightly ajar so that there was a small stream of light, and the other hand on my pants, I accomplished my task, all the while saying a prayer that no one would push the door open and try to come in.
When I exited the room, a man had just entered the common area and gave me the weirdest look as I came out of 'his' little room.
When I returned to my table, I related my death defying fete to my two female American friends, who had been living in Paris for years. I told them that during the course of many trips to France, I had encountered the dreaded hole in the floor, but that there had always been a light switch or a window with outside light coming in.
They both started laughing hysterically, saying almost in unison - 'when you lock the door, the light comes on automatically'.
The Turkish toilet, aka; hole in the floor wasn't a surprise, but the teeny tiny room was completely dark, and try as I could, I couldn't find the light switch.
As you women know, wearing jeans/pants and trying to use one of those dreaded holes, is almost impossible. There is no room to undress, so you have to go with your pants at half-mast.
I finally gave up on the light switch and realized that I had no other choice but to go in total darkness and risk falling in.
With one hand on the door, holding it ever so slightly ajar so that there was a small stream of light, and the other hand on my pants, I accomplished my task, all the while saying a prayer that no one would push the door open and try to come in.
When I exited the room, a man had just entered the common area and gave me the weirdest look as I came out of 'his' little room.
When I returned to my table, I related my death defying fete to my two female American friends, who had been living in Paris for years. I told them that during the course of many trips to France, I had encountered the dreaded hole in the floor, but that there had always been a light switch or a window with outside light coming in.
They both started laughing hysterically, saying almost in unison - 'when you lock the door, the light comes on automatically'.
Dec 18th, 2004, 01:37 PM
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Actually, my funniest travelling story that I can think of right now is one I posted on the Caribbean forum under "Worst Airline Experience". Check it out (part II). It still gives me the shivers!
http://www.fodors.com/forums/threadselect.jsp?fid=5
My second (and I must have a perverted sense of humour) ocurred several years ago on a business trip. Ihad my usual window seat. My centre seat mate was a young nun in full penguin regalia. Obviously a non-traveler. She was fingering the rosary and mumbling prayers and looked very, very frightened. I spent the loading time talking to her and explaining that I travelled frequently and that most flights were completely uneventful. We spent a lot of time waiting on the tarmac and the FA came on the PA system to apologize and let us know that the flight was being held for two pax with a late connecting flight. Finally, the 2 late pax arrive. Their seats are the aisle seat beside the nun and the one across the aisle from it.
The guy beside the nun plops down, introduces himself, and picks up the seart-back safety card as the FA starts the safety spiel. Then he turns to us and says - "Well, whaddaya know? Looks like we're flying one of those 737 convertible babies!!!" (This was exactly 4 days after Air Aloha had had the top of a 737 peeled of like the top to a sardine can and an FA sucked out!!!!) I learned a LOT of catholic prayers on that trip - LOL!
http://www.fodors.com/forums/threadselect.jsp?fid=5
My second (and I must have a perverted sense of humour) ocurred several years ago on a business trip. Ihad my usual window seat. My centre seat mate was a young nun in full penguin regalia. Obviously a non-traveler. She was fingering the rosary and mumbling prayers and looked very, very frightened. I spent the loading time talking to her and explaining that I travelled frequently and that most flights were completely uneventful. We spent a lot of time waiting on the tarmac and the FA came on the PA system to apologize and let us know that the flight was being held for two pax with a late connecting flight. Finally, the 2 late pax arrive. Their seats are the aisle seat beside the nun and the one across the aisle from it.
The guy beside the nun plops down, introduces himself, and picks up the seart-back safety card as the FA starts the safety spiel. Then he turns to us and says - "Well, whaddaya know? Looks like we're flying one of those 737 convertible babies!!!" (This was exactly 4 days after Air Aloha had had the top of a 737 peeled of like the top to a sardine can and an FA sucked out!!!!) I learned a LOT of catholic prayers on that trip - LOL!
Dec 21st, 2004, 06:30 AM
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Hi TripleSecDelay,
I can't seem to get the right link, so I've cut and pasted that part of the post here:.....................
The second incident was just plain eerie, and funny in a bizarre way.
Last November, my mother died. As a sufferer of Alzheimer's, she had been living with us in Ontario since my father's death the previous year. When she died, my brother and I had to fly her back to Newfoundland to be buried alongside my dad. This turned out to be a very complex organizational process. Between a 2-province funeral home arrangement, all the church and other arrangements to be made, my schedule, my brother's schedule and airline tix for all three of us, it turned out that Mom would be shipped back about 3 days before we could travel ourselves - so we made the funeral arrangements accordingly. On the day my brother and I left Ottawa, our fllight was cancelled 15 minutes before I left home and we were re-booked to later in the day. When we finally took off, that flight was 1 hour late leaving and we were afraid that we might miss our connection (last of the day) in Halifax. Air Canada, was super though. When we landed late in Halifax, they had a gate agent with a cart waiting for us and whisked us through the bowels of Halifax airport to where we boarded the Dash-8 for Gander and a planeload of disgruntled pax who had been waiting ages for us (thank goodness Newfies have a hard time remaining in a disgruntled state!). So we sit on the plane and wait.... and wait... Then the announcement comes that the plane is broken and we have to get off and wait for a new (?) one. We all unload and queue up in the bowels of Halifax airport....and wait....and wait. Finally, as we are waiting, we hear a loud voice from a baggage hanndler at the back of the queue -
"Hey Joe? What's the problem???!!! Why can't we load the luggage?"
And from Joe, at the front -
"Hey boy - dey got to get da body on first - dat's da rules!"
My brother and I look at each other in fascinated horror! Can it be true?
Yes indeed! Somehow, they had managed to keep my mother's body in Halifax for 3 days, skip all the previous flights for that day to Gander and hold her to travel with us!
She never did like to travel alone!
I can't seem to get the right link, so I've cut and pasted that part of the post here:.....................
The second incident was just plain eerie, and funny in a bizarre way.
Last November, my mother died. As a sufferer of Alzheimer's, she had been living with us in Ontario since my father's death the previous year. When she died, my brother and I had to fly her back to Newfoundland to be buried alongside my dad. This turned out to be a very complex organizational process. Between a 2-province funeral home arrangement, all the church and other arrangements to be made, my schedule, my brother's schedule and airline tix for all three of us, it turned out that Mom would be shipped back about 3 days before we could travel ourselves - so we made the funeral arrangements accordingly. On the day my brother and I left Ottawa, our fllight was cancelled 15 minutes before I left home and we were re-booked to later in the day. When we finally took off, that flight was 1 hour late leaving and we were afraid that we might miss our connection (last of the day) in Halifax. Air Canada, was super though. When we landed late in Halifax, they had a gate agent with a cart waiting for us and whisked us through the bowels of Halifax airport to where we boarded the Dash-8 for Gander and a planeload of disgruntled pax who had been waiting ages for us (thank goodness Newfies have a hard time remaining in a disgruntled state!). So we sit on the plane and wait.... and wait... Then the announcement comes that the plane is broken and we have to get off and wait for a new (?) one. We all unload and queue up in the bowels of Halifax airport....and wait....and wait. Finally, as we are waiting, we hear a loud voice from a baggage hanndler at the back of the queue -
"Hey Joe? What's the problem???!!! Why can't we load the luggage?"
And from Joe, at the front -
"Hey boy - dey got to get da body on first - dat's da rules!"
My brother and I look at each other in fascinated horror! Can it be true?
Yes indeed! Somehow, they had managed to keep my mother's body in Halifax for 3 days, skip all the previous flights for that day to Gander and hold her to travel with us!
She never did like to travel alone!
Dec 21st, 2004, 07:48 AM
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Two years ago, my friend Annette and I made an independent two week trip to France, Italy and Greece. I had been to Ireland before, but this was the first trip to the continent for both of us. Since my friends call me the “playground director”, I was in charge of making all of the arrangements. I spent lots of time at Barnes & Noble and online doing research and making flight, hotel, train and ferry reservations.
Finally, our departure date arrived. My sister and a friend dropped us at the airport and we proceeded to get checked in and waited for our boarding call. As we sat talking, we noticed a line forming, so we got in line, got pulled out of line to be “wanded”, and boarded the plane. We ended up in bulkhead seats with lots of leg room and I commented that these seats would have been great to have on the overnight flight to Paris instead of the short 50 minute flight to Detroit. After getting our carry-ons put in the overhead compartment and getting settled in our seats, I was a little surprised to see the FA’s already closing the overhead compartments, since we weren’t scheduled to depart for some time yet. Then the announcement came from the cockpit, “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome aboard Northwest flight #xxxx to Minneapolis/St. Paul.” As I struggled to get my seatbelt undone, I said, “Annette, we’re on the wrong plane!” Well, we grabbed our carry-ons and ran to the exit just as a Northwest employee was boarding to get us. As we reentered the waiting area, Annette said “Your sister told me that traveling with you, I’d get to see more than I’d ever imagined, but I never thought it would include Minneapolis!” As tears streamed down our cheeks from laughing so hard, we wondered how we were going to navigate three foreign countries if we couldn’t even get the right plane out of our hometown!
I think Annette’s confidence in my planning capabilities was somewhat shaken that day, but we managed to navigate our way through three countries with several other interesting mishaps that we remember fondly.
Finally, our departure date arrived. My sister and a friend dropped us at the airport and we proceeded to get checked in and waited for our boarding call. As we sat talking, we noticed a line forming, so we got in line, got pulled out of line to be “wanded”, and boarded the plane. We ended up in bulkhead seats with lots of leg room and I commented that these seats would have been great to have on the overnight flight to Paris instead of the short 50 minute flight to Detroit. After getting our carry-ons put in the overhead compartment and getting settled in our seats, I was a little surprised to see the FA’s already closing the overhead compartments, since we weren’t scheduled to depart for some time yet. Then the announcement came from the cockpit, “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome aboard Northwest flight #xxxx to Minneapolis/St. Paul.” As I struggled to get my seatbelt undone, I said, “Annette, we’re on the wrong plane!” Well, we grabbed our carry-ons and ran to the exit just as a Northwest employee was boarding to get us. As we reentered the waiting area, Annette said “Your sister told me that traveling with you, I’d get to see more than I’d ever imagined, but I never thought it would include Minneapolis!” As tears streamed down our cheeks from laughing so hard, we wondered how we were going to navigate three foreign countries if we couldn’t even get the right plane out of our hometown!
I think Annette’s confidence in my planning capabilities was somewhat shaken that day, but we managed to navigate our way through three countries with several other interesting mishaps that we remember fondly.
Dec 21st, 2004, 09:08 AM
#51
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The previous two posts remind me of two situations I had forgotten about.
First story: I had travelled to where my recently deceased mother had lived. Many keepsakes from her apartment were stuffed into a large suitcase brought on the trip purely for that purpose. It was very heavy. When the check-in clerk lifted it to put it on the conveyor belt, she jokingly asked, "Are you sure this doesn't have a dead body in it?" I lifted my carry-on bag so she could easily see it and truthfully replied with a big smile on my face, "Not to be indelicate, but my mother's ashes are in here, not the large bag."
Second story: This happened 30 years ago and couldn't happen today for security reasons. I was in a small airport in Elmira, New York taking the last flight that day to Chicago. There were no screens or boards with flight numbers and related info. Instead, the check-in clerk told me to listen for the flight number on the public address system so I would know when to board. When I realized we were past the scheduled boarding time and getting close to departure time, I went to the same clerk and asked how long the delay might be. She immediately got a look of horror on her face. She had told me the wrong flight number and the plane was about to leave!
I rushed out of the building, through the gate of the chain link fence and onto the tarmac. The plane's engines were already running, the steps to the cabin had been removed and the door was shut. So, I ran further onto the tarmac to position myself in front of the plane, knowing that it wouldn't move with me standing there. The pilot opened his window. I couldn't hear him and I assume he couldn't hear me, but I spoke loudly and made gestures indicating that I was supposed to be on the plane and that it wasn't my fault.
They opened the door, repositioned the steps and let me on to a plane full of passengers that were very disgruntled that I was holding them up. To my surprise, we sat there for awhile rather than immediately taking off. Finally the pilot made an announcement, "I don't know what's going on tonight but there are still some people coming on board." As the ten or so remaining people walked past me I felt like saying "You're welcome," for having alerted the check-in clerk of the problem that apparently had affected people other than me. (I regret to admit that in an uncharacteristic moment of maturity I refrained.)
Looking back on it, the really funny part is having the gaul -- youth really does have its strengths -- to stand on the tarmac in front of the airplane. My mother and I always loved travel talk. She was there at the time and we enjoyed a funny remembrance of it while recounting numerous travel stories during one of her last dying days.
First story: I had travelled to where my recently deceased mother had lived. Many keepsakes from her apartment were stuffed into a large suitcase brought on the trip purely for that purpose. It was very heavy. When the check-in clerk lifted it to put it on the conveyor belt, she jokingly asked, "Are you sure this doesn't have a dead body in it?" I lifted my carry-on bag so she could easily see it and truthfully replied with a big smile on my face, "Not to be indelicate, but my mother's ashes are in here, not the large bag."
Second story: This happened 30 years ago and couldn't happen today for security reasons. I was in a small airport in Elmira, New York taking the last flight that day to Chicago. There were no screens or boards with flight numbers and related info. Instead, the check-in clerk told me to listen for the flight number on the public address system so I would know when to board. When I realized we were past the scheduled boarding time and getting close to departure time, I went to the same clerk and asked how long the delay might be. She immediately got a look of horror on her face. She had told me the wrong flight number and the plane was about to leave!
I rushed out of the building, through the gate of the chain link fence and onto the tarmac. The plane's engines were already running, the steps to the cabin had been removed and the door was shut. So, I ran further onto the tarmac to position myself in front of the plane, knowing that it wouldn't move with me standing there. The pilot opened his window. I couldn't hear him and I assume he couldn't hear me, but I spoke loudly and made gestures indicating that I was supposed to be on the plane and that it wasn't my fault.
They opened the door, repositioned the steps and let me on to a plane full of passengers that were very disgruntled that I was holding them up. To my surprise, we sat there for awhile rather than immediately taking off. Finally the pilot made an announcement, "I don't know what's going on tonight but there are still some people coming on board." As the ten or so remaining people walked past me I felt like saying "You're welcome," for having alerted the check-in clerk of the problem that apparently had affected people other than me. (I regret to admit that in an uncharacteristic moment of maturity I refrained.)
Looking back on it, the really funny part is having the gaul -- youth really does have its strengths -- to stand on the tarmac in front of the airplane. My mother and I always loved travel talk. She was there at the time and we enjoyed a funny remembrance of it while recounting numerous travel stories during one of her last dying days.
Dec 21st, 2004, 01:54 PM
#52
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In the mid 90's I took my first trip to France and Spain with h.s. students. The French teacher was an "experienced" student chaperone and as part of the trip we were booked on an overnight train traveling from Paris to Madrid.
Our accomodations were couchettes 6 people per cabin. I was with 5 of my female students who were exhausted and really wanted to sleep. Unfortunately we were next to another group of our students who were laughing and screaming so loudly that I had to ask them to either quiet down or move up to the dining car area if they wanted to be so noisy.
I was sleeping soundly when I was awoken by a loud banging on the outside window. I looked and saw we had stopped in some station and there were the six "noisy" students screaming to me from the platform that they couldn't get back on the train because the doors were locked.
I ran to the door and opened it yelling "Why did you leave the train?" They explained that the conductor had come into the car when the train stopped and spoke to them in French. They hadn't understood a thing until he finally said "Out! Out" So they got off of the train. What he was trying to explain (I later found out) was that that section of the train was being separated from the rest and was going on to GERMANY! He knew they were not going there but could not explain that to them.
With a pounding heart all I could imagine was having to explain to a group of parents that I had lost their kids somewhere in the middle of the night!
P.S. You can be sure I really let our tour guide know what I thought of him for NOT WARNING us about this train separation which he DID KNOW ABOUT!
Our accomodations were couchettes 6 people per cabin. I was with 5 of my female students who were exhausted and really wanted to sleep. Unfortunately we were next to another group of our students who were laughing and screaming so loudly that I had to ask them to either quiet down or move up to the dining car area if they wanted to be so noisy.
I was sleeping soundly when I was awoken by a loud banging on the outside window. I looked and saw we had stopped in some station and there were the six "noisy" students screaming to me from the platform that they couldn't get back on the train because the doors were locked.
I ran to the door and opened it yelling "Why did you leave the train?" They explained that the conductor had come into the car when the train stopped and spoke to them in French. They hadn't understood a thing until he finally said "Out! Out" So they got off of the train. What he was trying to explain (I later found out) was that that section of the train was being separated from the rest and was going on to GERMANY! He knew they were not going there but could not explain that to them.
With a pounding heart all I could imagine was having to explain to a group of parents that I had lost their kids somewhere in the middle of the night!
P.S. You can be sure I really let our tour guide know what I thought of him for NOT WARNING us about this train separation which he DID KNOW ABOUT!
Dec 22nd, 2004, 02:54 AM
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HO! - HO! - HO!
I once arrived at a home on the night of the 24th to deliver presents. Upon sliding down the chimney, I stepped from the hearth and discovered a weathered woman in her 70's who was offering herself to me. Well! I just couldn't. I'm happily married to Mrs. Claus, after all. So, I told the woman "HO - HO - HO! Gotta go! Gotta go! Got plenty of presents to deliver, you know!" And off I went, up the chimney and back to the sleigh to continue my journey.
I arrived at another home later the same evening. And something similar occurred. This woman was not attractive, either. Well, I had to let her down easy, so I say, "HO - HO - HO! Gotta go! Gotta go! Got plenty of presents to deliver, you know!" And off I went, up the chimney and back to the sleigh to continue my journey.
A little later in the evening, I slide down a chimney and deliver the presents when I see the most beautiful, 24 year old woman who also was offering herself to me. Her lingerie left little to the imagination. Well, next thing you know, my body responds and my trousers are getting tighter and tighter. Santa's zipper is about to break. So, I tell this striking young gal, "Hey - Hey - Hey! Gotta stay! Gotta stay! Santa can't get up the chimney this way!"
You can guess the rest.
Merry Christmas!
Santa_Claus
Dec 22nd, 2004, 08:02 AM
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TripleSecDelay, here is the continuation of your OP story.
I copied your original post about cell phone in the next bathroom cell and e-mailed to a co-worker. Her reply:
"Oh my gosh, that is hilarious!!!! Thanks for the laugh. What were you doing in Austin?"
She seriously thought I went to Texas! And wrote this story!
I copied your original post about cell phone in the next bathroom cell and e-mailed to a co-worker. Her reply:
"Oh my gosh, that is hilarious!!!! Thanks for the laugh. What were you doing in Austin?"
She seriously thought I went to Texas! And wrote this story!
Dec 22nd, 2004, 08:34 AM
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We were returning from our honeymoon in Europe where we were feeling very cocky about travelling through Germany, Belguim and France with very few mishaps or looking too foolish (at least in our opinion.) We board our flight on Luftansa and are settled in when the beverage card comes around and a very beautiful German flight attendant asks my husband what he would like to drink. With much authority and confidence he tells her he would like an "Auferdersein" (sp?). The flight attendant gives him a puzzled look and he realizes his mistake and sputters out, "Uh, I meant a Warsteiner". We could hear the flight crew laughing as she retold the story! So much for Mr. World Traveller!
Dec 22nd, 2004, 09:18 AM
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Two silly stories from a trip to Ireland:
My best friend and I were driving across the country, and, goofballs that we are, shouted out (in a lilting brogue) what was written on every sign along the roadway. We had trouble pronouncing the names of certain towns. One of them was "Meanus." We decided it was pronounced much like "Uranus." Which of course left us giggling. After we left town I was sorry I hadn't taken a picture of the sign. I said to my friend (with an Irish accent), "Agh, I shoulda taken a picture of Meanus." She had to pull over the car, she was laughing so hard.
We noticed throughout the trip that most of the sheep we saw had a colored dot on their backs. We were curious what it meant, so we asked some locals. Of course every one of those characters made something up! My favorite answer was given by a guy in Waterford. He said that the male sheep have a little box of paint tied around their stomachs. When a male sheep mates with a ewe, he leaves a dot of this paint on her back. This way the farmers can tell who is mating with whom. My friend then asks the guy, "Why do some of them have a dot on their head, then?"
My best friend and I were driving across the country, and, goofballs that we are, shouted out (in a lilting brogue) what was written on every sign along the roadway. We had trouble pronouncing the names of certain towns. One of them was "Meanus." We decided it was pronounced much like "Uranus." Which of course left us giggling. After we left town I was sorry I hadn't taken a picture of the sign. I said to my friend (with an Irish accent), "Agh, I shoulda taken a picture of Meanus." She had to pull over the car, she was laughing so hard.
We noticed throughout the trip that most of the sheep we saw had a colored dot on their backs. We were curious what it meant, so we asked some locals. Of course every one of those characters made something up! My favorite answer was given by a guy in Waterford. He said that the male sheep have a little box of paint tied around their stomachs. When a male sheep mates with a ewe, he leaves a dot of this paint on her back. This way the farmers can tell who is mating with whom. My friend then asks the guy, "Why do some of them have a dot on their head, then?"
Dec 22nd, 2004, 02:25 PM
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FainaAgain : Glad to lighten more than one person's day. 
That's what it's all about, isn't it? Nice that you were able to take it and run with it. Marilyn on the other hand... I'll be she's a lotta fun at parties. 
Merry Christmas, Happy Hannukah, Happy Kwanza, oh yeah - and then there's always Festivus for the Rest of Us!!
That's what it's all about, isn't it? Nice that you were able to take it and run with it. Marilyn on the other hand... I'll be she's a lotta fun at parties. Merry Christmas, Happy Hannukah, Happy Kwanza, oh yeah - and then there's always Festivus for the Rest of Us!!
Dec 22nd, 2004, 11:43 PM
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Message: Have told this one before on an obscure Europe thread which quickly became buried. Here it is again.
We were in Tuscany, driving and recognizing that our rental car was getting pretty tacky after a couple of weeks of touring. We had stopped at a market to get fixings for a picnic. As we left the parking area, we spotted what appeared to be a car wash of some kind just above the market. Good timing. We would take advantage of it. We took the little side road, drove up to the apparent entrance and positioned the car for the wash. I got out and looked at the coin receptacle and, satisfied that I could manage it, I fed the appropriate coins. I quickly joined my wife in the car and waited for the washer to spring into action. Nothing! I got out and read the instructions again, making sure I had put in the right coins. I had. I pushed the slide mechanism in and out several times and quickly jumped into the car again. Nothing! I did this several times and could get no action. Pretty upset by now (damned foreign machines never work like ours), I jumped out to check once more. As I carefully examined the coin mechanism, I happened to look up on the slight rise above the washing apparatus (about 15 yards away). There I saw two elderly gentleman sitting on a bench, caps at a jaunty angle, sweaters tightly buttoned, complexions of leather and they were laughing uproarously; I mean knee slapping, head wagging, belly jumping laughter. They were looking right at us, so we were obviously the source of their mirth. All of a sudden "the light went on". I jumped into the car and moved forward to the under-washer position to wash. The water came on and we got our wash. This was a stationary car wash and no matter how long I would have waited or jiggled that coin mechanism, that washer was never going to move over our car. We obviously made the day of those two old gentleman, "dumb Americans". What a story they had to tell there friends; "there were these two Americans who drove their car in front of the car wash...." This is many years ago and we still cannot remember this experience without breaking into laughter ourselves. The thought of those two old gentleman watching me, in and out of the car, checking the coin op, a car length short of the overhead washer, it's too much.
We were in Tuscany, driving and recognizing that our rental car was getting pretty tacky after a couple of weeks of touring. We had stopped at a market to get fixings for a picnic. As we left the parking area, we spotted what appeared to be a car wash of some kind just above the market. Good timing. We would take advantage of it. We took the little side road, drove up to the apparent entrance and positioned the car for the wash. I got out and looked at the coin receptacle and, satisfied that I could manage it, I fed the appropriate coins. I quickly joined my wife in the car and waited for the washer to spring into action. Nothing! I got out and read the instructions again, making sure I had put in the right coins. I had. I pushed the slide mechanism in and out several times and quickly jumped into the car again. Nothing! I did this several times and could get no action. Pretty upset by now (damned foreign machines never work like ours), I jumped out to check once more. As I carefully examined the coin mechanism, I happened to look up on the slight rise above the washing apparatus (about 15 yards away). There I saw two elderly gentleman sitting on a bench, caps at a jaunty angle, sweaters tightly buttoned, complexions of leather and they were laughing uproarously; I mean knee slapping, head wagging, belly jumping laughter. They were looking right at us, so we were obviously the source of their mirth. All of a sudden "the light went on". I jumped into the car and moved forward to the under-washer position to wash. The water came on and we got our wash. This was a stationary car wash and no matter how long I would have waited or jiggled that coin mechanism, that washer was never going to move over our car. We obviously made the day of those two old gentleman, "dumb Americans". What a story they had to tell there friends; "there were these two Americans who drove their car in front of the car wash...." This is many years ago and we still cannot remember this experience without breaking into laughter ourselves. The thought of those two old gentleman watching me, in and out of the car, checking the coin op, a car length short of the overhead washer, it's too much.
