Mums Pink Dressing Gown and Fluffy Slippers
Jul 13th 2011, 3:04 am
#1
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Mums Pink Dressing Gown and Fluffy Slippers
I hope no one minds, but I thought I would start a new thread entitled Mums Pink Dressing Gown and Fluffy Slippers.
This is in response to replies I got in my last thread about men in shorts… where it prompted a few people to comment on those who wear PJ’s when popping out to the shops.
This story is a true account of something that happened to a couple of close friends of mine many years ago.
When I was a young lad of just seventeen, three of us used to ‘knock around’ together as mates do. One of which went to call on the other (glad I wasn’t there that night) to show off his new ride (Vauxhall something or other…) Anyway, mate number two came to the door in a pink dressing gown, which belonged to his mum, and matching fluffy pink slippers (he always was a funny lad!)….. anyway, mate one said “come out for a spin around the block”…. It was dark, evening time, so, without further ado, mate two jumped in… without changing his attire. A spin around the block turned into a 30 minute car ride, and wanting to show off a bit, mate one decided he wanted do a few wheel spins etc…. Being a responsible lad, he didn’t want to do this in the street (unlike today’s crowd) so he took off down the local industrial estate, which was more like a dump back then (than a business park as we know them now)….
Five minutes and ten wheel spins later, there they sat cranking up the volume of the radio… then came a tap tap tap on the window… oh no…. plod!
Now think about it… two young lads, parked up, on what they later learned was a well known local “lovers lane” the one in the passenger seat wearing a pink ladies dressing gown (with ruffles) and matching slippers…. and nothing else!
Apparently the PC who knocked on the window couldn’t believe his eyes… he called his colleague over to take a look as well, obviously using the excuse that a second opinion was in order… or something. The PC’s could barely keep straight faces as both my mates tried in vain to stammer out their excuses as to what exactly they were up to!
Unbeknown to them they had just provided two coppers with a story that will undoubtedly be told many many times over copious flagons of ale, and may probably serve to be one of the highlights of their careers. Unfortunately for my mates their ordeal didn’t end there…….
Having suitably reprimanded both lads for being somewhere they shouldn’t have been, and driving recklessly, not to mention impersonating Danny La Rue, they told them to “get the hell out of here” (before anyone else sees you… in a hushed sniggering voice from the second cop).
The driver mate (I daren’t use real names even now after all these years), anyway, he turned the ignition key and… click click… nothing! The cops still standing there looking on, and yes, still very amused. The battery had been draining away merrily as they had sat there with radio on, lights on, then being admonished by the cops… now nothing!
One of the PC’s, (being the helpful public servants they are) said looks like you might have to bump start it lads… Well, driver mate knew how to do this, also he was the only one of the two who could drive, so Danny La Rue ended up pushing the car whilst driver mate attempted to “bump” the engine into life. This was all but too much for the cops, one of who was actually convulsing with hysterical laughter, the other one, being the more professional of the two, had seen fit to call it in, and was relaying it all so that his lesser fortunate colleagues could join in the mirth.
Epilogue
Peter (oops… name slip) Danny La Rue told me some days later when we were all out down the pub, that it was so embarrassing… he said there I was trying to push the car with one hand, and holding my mums dressing gown shut with the other (he didn’t even have the belt on it!) and trying to get a grip with me’ feet on the tarmac whilst wearing me’ mums pink fekin’ slippers…. and all the time being heckled by two fekin’ coppers who couldn’t do anything but piss themselves laughing!...
And… to top it all, when he got home, his mum had locked the door, thinking he had gone off to bed, and as he waited for someone to get up and let him in (they had all gone to sleep by this time), their neighbours were just returning home after a boozy night out with two of their friends….. so, once again he was ridiculed for his attire, and by the bloody neighbours, who would obviously never EVER let this one go!
It goes without saying that he had to suffer various knick names after that, “where’s TRANS tonight” , or “is La Rue coming out tonight” (that one worked on so many different levels, it was my favourite).
This is in response to replies I got in my last thread about men in shorts… where it prompted a few people to comment on those who wear PJ’s when popping out to the shops.
This story is a true account of something that happened to a couple of close friends of mine many years ago.
When I was a young lad of just seventeen, three of us used to ‘knock around’ together as mates do. One of which went to call on the other (glad I wasn’t there that night) to show off his new ride (Vauxhall something or other…) Anyway, mate number two came to the door in a pink dressing gown, which belonged to his mum, and matching fluffy pink slippers (he always was a funny lad!)….. anyway, mate one said “come out for a spin around the block”…. It was dark, evening time, so, without further ado, mate two jumped in… without changing his attire. A spin around the block turned into a 30 minute car ride, and wanting to show off a bit, mate one decided he wanted do a few wheel spins etc…. Being a responsible lad, he didn’t want to do this in the street (unlike today’s crowd) so he took off down the local industrial estate, which was more like a dump back then (than a business park as we know them now)….
Five minutes and ten wheel spins later, there they sat cranking up the volume of the radio… then came a tap tap tap on the window… oh no…. plod!
Now think about it… two young lads, parked up, on what they later learned was a well known local “lovers lane” the one in the passenger seat wearing a pink ladies dressing gown (with ruffles) and matching slippers…. and nothing else!
Apparently the PC who knocked on the window couldn’t believe his eyes… he called his colleague over to take a look as well, obviously using the excuse that a second opinion was in order… or something. The PC’s could barely keep straight faces as both my mates tried in vain to stammer out their excuses as to what exactly they were up to!
Unbeknown to them they had just provided two coppers with a story that will undoubtedly be told many many times over copious flagons of ale, and may probably serve to be one of the highlights of their careers. Unfortunately for my mates their ordeal didn’t end there…….
Having suitably reprimanded both lads for being somewhere they shouldn’t have been, and driving recklessly, not to mention impersonating Danny La Rue, they told them to “get the hell out of here” (before anyone else sees you… in a hushed sniggering voice from the second cop).
The driver mate (I daren’t use real names even now after all these years), anyway, he turned the ignition key and… click click… nothing! The cops still standing there looking on, and yes, still very amused. The battery had been draining away merrily as they had sat there with radio on, lights on, then being admonished by the cops… now nothing!
One of the PC’s, (being the helpful public servants they are) said looks like you might have to bump start it lads… Well, driver mate knew how to do this, also he was the only one of the two who could drive, so Danny La Rue ended up pushing the car whilst driver mate attempted to “bump” the engine into life. This was all but too much for the cops, one of who was actually convulsing with hysterical laughter, the other one, being the more professional of the two, had seen fit to call it in, and was relaying it all so that his lesser fortunate colleagues could join in the mirth.
Epilogue
Peter (oops… name slip) Danny La Rue told me some days later when we were all out down the pub, that it was so embarrassing… he said there I was trying to push the car with one hand, and holding my mums dressing gown shut with the other (he didn’t even have the belt on it!) and trying to get a grip with me’ feet on the tarmac whilst wearing me’ mums pink fekin’ slippers…. and all the time being heckled by two fekin’ coppers who couldn’t do anything but piss themselves laughing!...
And… to top it all, when he got home, his mum had locked the door, thinking he had gone off to bed, and as he waited for someone to get up and let him in (they had all gone to sleep by this time), their neighbours were just returning home after a boozy night out with two of their friends….. so, once again he was ridiculed for his attire, and by the bloody neighbours, who would obviously never EVER let this one go!
It goes without saying that he had to suffer various knick names after that, “where’s TRANS tonight” , or “is La Rue coming out tonight” (that one worked on so many different levels, it was my favourite).
Last edited by Kevin; Jul 13th 2011 at 4:34 am.
Jul 13th 2011, 9:22 am
#2
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Re: Mums Pink Dressing Gown and Fluffy Slippers
Jul 13th 2011, 10:12 am
#3
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Re: Mums Pink Dressing Gown and Fluffy Slippers
priceless!! 
Jul 13th 2011, 12:32 pm
#4
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Re: Mums Pink Dressing Gown and Fluffy Slippers
Classic Peter, opps sorry, Kevin
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Jul 13th 2011, 8:53 pm
#5
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Re: Mums Pink Dressing Gown and Fluffy Slippers
Okay okay… lets stop that right here and now. Hand on heart I swear that “Peter” isn’t…wasn’t me. It just goes to show the sort of characters that lurk around this forum, when a guy shares one of his most precious stories from his past, even at the expense of exposing “certain” characters or upsetting old friends, then to be accused of removing himself from the story and substituting a “friend” in the part of fall guy…. Well how very dare you?!
I would like to state for the record that I do not now or never have indulged in the wearing of women’s clothing, either for profit or pleasure! And my feet are at least three sizes bigger than my Mums, and they did not even fit into her slippers… or high heels…!
So there!
I would like to state for the record that I do not now or never have indulged in the wearing of women’s clothing, either for profit or pleasure! And my feet are at least three sizes bigger than my Mums, and they did not even fit into her slippers… or high heels…!
So there!
