A true story..honestly

[spudfan]

Two Americans were on holiday in Dublin . They were in a night club. One of the Americans being the worst for wear on alcohol decided to go outside and get a taxi to the hotel they were staying in. At the end of the taxi journey he paid the fair went to his room and slept. The next morning his partner asked were he had disappeared to the night before. He explained about going outside and getting a taxi to the hotel.
"The nightclub is in the hotel" his partner replied.

[jhb171achill]

1 hour ago, spudfan said:

Two Americans were on holiday in Dublin . They were in a night club. One of the Americans being the worst for wear on alcohol decided to go outside and get a taxi to the hotel they were staying in. At the end of the taxi journey he paid the fair went to his room and slept. The next morning his partner asked were he had disappeared to the night before. He explained about going outside and getting a taxi to the hotel.
"The nightclub is in the hotel" his partner replied.

Sounds like something I must have done at some stage!

[Broithe]

Before Beeching, one of my aunts got a train from Bristol, intending to go to Wellington in Somerset, not a huge journey.

It seemed to take a good bit longer than she was expecting.

But, in the end, she got off at Wellington.

In Shropshire.

[Lambeg man]

I was on a stag do in Krakow in Poland circa 2008. The groom and the others were work colleagues. I was by way the oldest person in the group. One of the party was a guy called Andy who I had worked for many years and who I got on with very well, though he was about ten years my junior. By the time of this stag do he had developed Type 1 diabetes. Furthermore he was still recovering from injuries he received as a pedestrian hit by a car and was not able to walk long distances. After a meal in a nice restaurant we all adorned to night club. By 01.00 in the morning I was feeling tired but too bluttered. Andy remarked that he felt the same way, so I suggested we both call it night and make our way back to the hotel which was not too far away.

We came out of the night club onto the main square in the centre of Krakow. I looked around and THOUGHT I recognized the way out of the square to the hotel. We set off under my assurance to Andy that I knew it was the right way. We walked for about an hour before being a darkened wood I realized I had gone seriously wrong. We needed to get back to the centre of Krakow but by now the local street lighting had been switched off. Fumbling around in the dark, I climbed a tree to try and make which direction the centre was. I could see lights away in the distance, so we set off that way. It took us just under two hours to get back to where had set off from, the nightclub in the main square. This was partly due to fact I was having to support Andy with my shoulder as he was in a bit of pain in his injured leg. At least in the centre, the street lighting was still on. I was totally knackered and Andy was by now in bad shape. Fortunately a very short distance away I could see a taxi.

I carried Andy to the taxi and placed him in the back seat. The driver looked around at us

I said to him, "I'm sorry but I do not speak Polish, but my friend is very ill. Can you help us please and take us to the HOTEL IMBUS."

He began gesticulating and talking in Polish.

"Please," says I "please take us to the HOTEL IMBUS."

The driver shrugged his shoulders, started the taxi and we set off...

Turning a corner off the square he drove another twenty yards and stopped the taxi... Right outside the HOTEL IMBUS...

I felt the least I could was to give him 10 zloties for his trouble...      

[Broithe]

I went on a stag do in Tamworth, not far away, but just not a place anybody ever went to - the victim of the wedding came from there and we were staying overnight at his parents, who I had never met before. They were out when we arrived, and not back before we set out on the evening's events. Considerable imbibement later, we set off back to the house. Somehow, I got separated suddenly and found myself utterly lost. I had a vague idea of where I was and what direction the house should be in. I was helped in setting my course by the fact that I could see the lights of the Sutton Coldfield TV mast, so I set off, using that as my guiding star.

After a while, finding myself in open countryside and with my way blocked by a sizable river, I came to the revelation that the mast I was navigating by was actually the Hopwas mast, and I had been going about 180 degrees out. By now it was about 4am and I could see the lights of a decent sized town, which I took to be Lichfield - it looked plausible to proceed towards it, and the riverbank was useful for a large part of the journey. Eventually, I found myself in a large town, but it had a castle, which meant it wasn't Lichfield. Investigations of some shopfronts indicated that I was actually back in Tamworth. I decided to look in the phone book in a phone box, which happened to be across from the police station. It was not going to be easy to find a number for the house, as the surname was Clarke and I didn't know his father's first name. By this time, a copper was interrogating me with a view to detaining me for a public order offence - I had to find the right number - now. The marriage victim always used his second name, but I knew what the first one was and guessed that that was also his father's, which it was - and he answered, driving out to pick me up, much to the chagrin of the copper, who had hung around to 'collect' me, if my story turned out to be a con trick.

By this stage, it was about 4:30am and this was the first time that I had ever met the father, who was a headmaster - he did seem to think that it was all bit bit of a hoot, though.

[jhb171achill]

Not me, but a good friend. Being a Donegal man, he was a mad yoke with the drink.

HE was on a night out in Ballyshannon and got separated from his friends after the night club they were in had closed; it's about 02:45 by now or later. Ballyshannon being Ballyshannon, it was of course collapsing down out of the heavens. Yer man has lost his jacket (par for the course) and is trying to get a taxi home to.....Castlefinn!!!! That's an hour's drive through the Barnesmore Gap. Lashing rain, wind whipping it all round totally deserted streets by now.

He sees a taxi sitting with the engine running. Hops into the back, soaked to the skin, in just shirtsleeves and by now freezing cold.

"Can ye take me to Cyastlefannn, hi!", sez he to the driver.

Drivers turns round and looks at him.

"You get yourself OUTTA THIS CAR NOW! Or the ONLY place you're going tonight is a CELL!"

He had got into a garda car.

So I asked him, "So, how DID you get home that night?"

Answer:  "Sure ah dunno, hi!"

 

Don't ye love Donegal, hi.

[Mayner]

2 hours ago, Lambeg man said:

I was on a stag do in Krakow in Poland circa 2008. The groom and the others were work colleagues. I was by way the oldest person in the group. One of the party was a guy called Andy who I had worked for many years and who I got on with very well, though he was about ten years my junior. By the time of this stag do he had developed Type 1 diabetes. Furthermore he was still recovering from injuries he received as a pedestrian hit by a car and was not able to walk long distances. After a meal in a nice restaurant we all adorned to night club. By 01.00 in the morning I was feeling tired but too bluttered. Andy remarked that he felt the same way, so I suggested we both call it night and make our way back to the hotel which was not too far away.

We came out of the night club onto the main square in the centre of Krakow. I looked around and THOUGHT I recognized the way out of the square to the hotel. We set off under my assurance to Andy that I knew it was the right way. We walked for about an hour before being a darkened wood I realized I had gone seriously wrong. We needed to get back to the centre of Krakow but by now the local street lighting had been switched off. Fumbling around in the dark, I climbed a tree to try and make which direction the centre was. I could see lights away in the distance, so we set off that way. It took us just under two hours to get back to where had set off from, the nightclub in the main square. This was partly due to fact I was having to support Andy with my shoulder as he was in a bit of pain in his injured leg. At least in the centre, the street lighting was still on. I was totally knackered and Andy was by now in bad shape. Fortunately a very short distance away I could see a taxi.

I carried Andy to the taxi and placed him in the back seat. The driver looked around at us

I said to him, "I'm sorry but I do not speak Polish, but my friend is very ill. Can you help us please and take us to the HOTEL IMBUS."

He began gesticulating and talking in Polish.

"Please," says I "please take us to the HOTEL IMBUS."

The driver shrugged his shoulders, started the taxi and we set off...

Turning a corner off the square he drove another twenty yards and stopped the taxi... Right outside the HOTEL IMBUS...

I felt the least I could was to give him 10 zloties for his trouble...      

I had a similar experience with a taxi driver on my first visit to Sydney with the other half who spent many years in the City and was determined to take me round all her old haunts.

We arrived at Central station from the Airport had morning tea in a pub near the station and hailed a cab for Surry Hills, the very grumpy driver drove us about 1000 yards to our destination (another pub).

 

[Lambeg man]

This one is set the pre-mobile phone era. Yet another stag do, however this one much more local! The victim was once again a close work colleague, easily 15 years my junior and many of the others were not people I knew well. We attended a "Gentleman's Evening" (yes, strippers) at a venue in Norwich. In the course of the evening I became aware that the groom was being plied with 'Mickey Finns' and knowing him not to be a hard drinker like myself, watched his reactions.

I can say it here, because none of the parties involved would EVER visit this website!

The person spiking the groom's drinks was later discovered to have already commenced an affair with the bride! (Soap operas eat your heart out!)

Anyway, prematurely the groom is very drunk and throws up. I assist the door staff to get him a taxi (with a bin bag around him to stave of the vomit.) I go with him in the taxi to his address in the small village just outside Norwich where he was living. On arrival I ring the door bell. No reply. Cut a long story short, his finance has gone out for the night and there is no one at home. Slightly half cut I manage to climb up the back of his house and gain entry via a half opened upstairs window. I eventually get him indoors and up to his bed. I leave him with a basin beside his head, but he is totally out for the count.

Now I need to get home, to another village 8 miles away at 01.00 in the morning. I found a phone box and ordered a taxi. I got home at 03.00.

Pertinent to this tale, the said phone box had no telephone directory so I had to ring (192?) the old free 'Directory Enquiries' to get a taxi number.

In a subsequent debrief Paul thanked me for looking after him, but later said "How were you able to record the taxi number that Directory Enquiries gave you. Did you have a pen and paper on you?"

"Oldest trick in the book, as the operator gives you the number, breath over the cold kiosk glass and write the number in the condensation." (SIMPLES!)  

   

[Lambeg man]

EDITED: Sorry, not a true story, so in the wrong thread. LM

##############################################################################################################################

An American (a Texan to be more precise) is driving around southern Ireland in the late 1950's. He chances on a local sitting on a stone wall.

"Howdy, I'm an American here on holiday. I just love your country. So, tell me what do you do?"

"I'm a farmer." came the reply.

"Really? So how big is your farm?"

"Well there's the farmhouse there and I farm the three fields that surround it."

"Boy, you call that a FARM? Back in Texas I am farmer as well and do you know that if I get in my car in the morning and drive all the way around MY farm, I won't get home until late afternoon. Now what d'you think about that?"

The reply was "Have you thought about having the car checked?" 

Edited December 15, 2022 by Lambeg man
Wrong Thread

[Galteemore]

A similar - and genuinely true - story occurred on the SLNCR c 1950. One of the off-duty drivers was about to ride back from Enniskillen as a passenger on a railbus when an American tourist engaged him in conversation. It was all about life in the USA and how quickly everything was constructed to such size. The driver managed to contain himself until they crossed the border. The American, noticing the fresh concrete of the White Fathers convent outside Blacklion, asked what it was. The SLNC man said ‘I’ve no idea - it wasn’t there when I came past this morning’…..

Edited December 15, 2022 by Galteemore

[Broithe]

On 1/12/2022 at 12:36 AM, jhb171achill said:

Not me, but a good friend. Being a Donegal man, he was a mad yoke with the drink.

HE was on a night out in Ballyshannon and got separated from his friends after the night club they were in had closed; it's about 02:45 by now or later. Ballyshannon being Ballyshannon, it was of course collapsing down out of the heavens. Yer man has lost his jacket (par for the course) and is trying to get a taxi home to.....Castlefinn!!!! That's an hour's drive through the Barnesmore Gap. Lashing rain, wind whipping it all round totally deserted streets by now.

He sees a taxi sitting with the engine running. Hops into the back, soaked to the skin, in just shirtsleeves and by now freezing cold.

"Can ye take me to Cyastlefannn, hi!", sez he to the driver.

Drivers turns round and looks at him.

"You get yourself OUTTA THIS CAR NOW! Or the ONLY place you're going tonight is a CELL!"

He had got into a garda car.

So I asked him, "So, how DID you get home that night?"

Answer:  "Sure ah dunno, hi!"

 

Don't ye love Donegal, hi.

A friend of mine was an odd character - generally OK, but when he got out-of-hand, things would escalate very quickly - he was generally known as Nightmare Neil.

He had, though, the benefit of the fact that English coppers generally have little knowledge of the general local population, apart from their own circles and a few habitual criminals.

This meant that Neil, who also had a capacity to look totally innocent, no matter what he had just done, was often taken home in a cop car, as the chance of him interacting with one who had dealt with him before was practically zero.

This led to us referring to them as his Blue and Yellow Taxis.

 

He also had a magical accuracy with a snowball - no power, but he would always hit you - he would stare at you with glazed eyes and, as soon as you decided to move, the snowball would appear at your new location and hit you in the face.

[Lambeg man]

7 minutes ago, Broithe said:

This led to us referring to them as his Blue and Yellow Taxis.

When I was rural policing circa 1990, the reference was "He calmed down and was taken home by BLUE LIGHT TAXIS." This arose when situations occurred that were so far from a main police station, taking the individual home was an easier option than arrest. 

[jhb171achill]

3 minutes ago, Lambeg man said:

When I was rural policing circa 1990, the reference was "He calmed down and was taken home by BLUE LIGHT TAXIS." This arose when situations occurred that were so far from a main police station, taking the individual home was an easier option than arrest. 

A friend who used to be in the policing business told me of a time he arrested someone who was absolutely off his face with drink and acting the (very aggressive) maggot in a night club, and got thrown out, whereupon he started fighting with a bouncer. Tired oul tale in that line of business, I know, but he was done for a quite serious assault. What made HIM different was that once he was en route in his blue light taxi, he projectile vomited all over the back seat and floor, and his driver...........

[Andy Cundick]

It used to be the practice at Swindon works,if one of your mates was getting married,that on his stag one of us with connivance would get him a priv ticket and after getting well and truly drunk got him onto the first train availablea word with the guard who was usually up for it and off he wold disappearthe record was York though God knows how he managed it,happy days,Andy. 

[Lambeg man]

1 hour ago, jhb171achill said:

What made HIM different was that once he was en route in his blue light taxi, he projectile vomited all over the back seat and floor, and his driver...........

Been there, SEEN it and got the 'T' shirt. Luckily I was in the rear seat beside matey, so it all went forward and missed me. Happy Days!

[jhb171achill]

A friend of mine on his stag do ended up in his underpants, duct-taped to a swivelling office chair on which he’d been wheeled through the lunchtime packed shopping streets of 1980s Belfast, and left - chair and all - in the former Cornmarket fountain….

Being Belfast in the 80s, there was a religious crank nearby bellowing into a microphone the usual eyewash about “Yizzer all SINNNERS and UNLESS YIZ REPENT! REPENT! REPENT!!!! yiz’ll all GO TO BURRRRRRRRRNNN in th’ETERNAL FIRES OF HELL!!!!!!”

You couldn’t have made it up. Worth every penny of a shilling a box… 

[Ironroad]

All this reminds me of the story of an American who on exiting Westland Row Station (having arrived on the boat train from Holyhead) hailed a taxi and asked to be taken to the Grosvenor Hotel. After a little drive he was deposited at the hotel. Looking out the widow of the dining room at breakfast the next morning he enquired of the waiter if the building across the street was a railway station, and was told that of course it is, isn't that where you arrived last night.  (for those that don't recollect it the building was demolished in 2005)

 

[Galteemore]

Fascinating (for me ) follow up to the Blacklion episode. I had a look at the White Fathers history site. Apparently the railbuses used to stop outside the college to allow students on and off. Checked the data with an SLNC crossing gates list and it checks out - no 7 gates staffed by Eddie Keaney. Another piece of useless information, so I’m quite happy….

[Lambeg man]

9 hours ago, Galteemore said:

Checked the data with an SLNC crossing gates list and it checks out - no 7 gates staffed by Eddie Keaney.

Just as a matter of passing interest, how many gatekeepers did the SLNCR employ? Or to put it another way, how many STAFFED gated crossings were there between Enniskillen and Colloney?

[Galteemore]

28. Generally crossing houses were occupied by SLNC staff 

 

[Lambeg man]

25 minutes ago, Galteemore said:

28. Generally crossing houses were occupied by SLNC staff 

Many thanks for that. I would have expected the number to be higher given the 'cheapness' the line was built, curves, gradients and the avoidance of building bridges where a level crossing would suffice. As a former BR crossing keeper on the Norwich-Cromer line, the service frequency on the SLNCR would meant the crossing staff would not have ever had TOO busy a day! LM