Odd things that have happened to you

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bicyclos

Part time Anorak
Location
West Yorkshire
I got married......................................................................
 

Black Country Ste

Senior Member
Location
West Midlands
Jeffrey Archer came to open my school's refurbished library in 1992 and the Mayor of Sandwell came over and shook my hand, saying my brother told him I wanted to meet him. He must have thought our borough's first citizen was the jailbird-to-be but I had no particular inclination to meet either.

Albion legend Tony Brown was granted a testimonial in 1999. As a 'thank you' to the fans he was to sit in the Brummie Road End for the first half. I was in my usual seat and the two empty seats next to me turned out to be reserved for Bomber plus one. :ohmy: Now, I'm too young by a long way to have ever seen him in the Stripes but I was a nervous wreck. I had my little brother with me who didn't know who he was. He'd also had too much Sunny Delight, so had to go to the loo several times, having to squeeze past Bomber each time. Starstruck and embarrassed, was I.

I don't remember much of that game except that a 40-something Bryan Robson, playing at centre half, was still better than the donkeys we had at the back at the time.
 

Mad Doug Biker

Just a damaged guy.
Location
Craggy Island
Back in the days when I was remotely patriotic (what a fool I was), I was in London on the 11th of November 2 years in a row. Both times I managed to randomly meet the same old woman at the Merchant Navy Memorial at Tower Bridge who had lost her brother during the war.
 
Moved into rented house and in second week a knock comes on the door.

Open the door to find I'm facing 3 of the roughest guys you might ever meet.

The leader grabs me by the throat and demands to know where "she" is. Then the other two chime in with "where is she you ****?"

Then all three rush past me and start searching the house. After 5 minutes they returned without success in locating "her" and asked in a lot calmer manner where she was.

I was telling them I hadn't a clue what they were on about when one of the guys whispered something to the others and they all ran off into the night.

A month later I learnt that the house next door was a refuge for battered wives!

We used to live in a similar situation. The home for battered wives & children was at number 7, the 8th house down on the left. we lived in the 4th house on the left (number 3). Unfortuantly the road was parrallel to the town centre of we lived near. numbers went 1, 1a, 2, 3 not the 1, 3, 5, 7 everyone assumed (including any new police or fire bridage to the area). We moved on after several years when the violence escalated too much and included being shot at through the sitting room window. There was only so long even my mother (then late 1980's with 2 more young children of her own and a founder member in our area of the Gingerbread organisation back in the 70's) could manage with the constant violence, threats, obsenities, graffiti and damage to property & vehicles.
 

PaulB

Legendary Member
Location
Colne
Moved into rented house and in second week a knock comes on the door.

Open the door to find I'm facing 3 of the roughest guys you might ever meet.

The leader grabs me by the throat and demands to know where "she" is. Then the other two chime in with "where is she you ****?"

Then all three rush past me and start searching the house. After 5 minutes they returned without success in locating "her" and asked in a lot calmer manner where she was.

I was telling them I hadn't a clue what they were on about when one of the guys whispered something to the others and they all ran off into the night.

A month later I learnt that the house next door was a refuge for battered wives!
Such is the 'omerta' necessary for the protection of such refuges, my wife, who is involved in a professional capacity with the children of some of the occupants of several local battered wives' homes, refuses to even divulge the general area of these places to me! Me! She knows I'm about as likely to pay a visit to such a place as I am to pour a full tin of Dulux burnt umber gloss paint over saint Sammy of Hyypia but fears I may inadvertently mention it in passing perhaps during a game of pool in a local pub and overheard by a desperado needing to vindicate his ire against his poor benighted battered wife. Well I was so enraged at being considered a security leak by her refusal to divulge the general location of the battered wives home to me that I took an old cricket bat from the loft.... If anyone could furnish me with the whereabouts of my wife..it's her birthday you see and I've got a card for her with a £20 note inside....
 
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