bobg
Über Member
- Location
- Crosby Merseyside
Flushed with success at my thesis on cleavage, I was reminded of another incident and this time I have to admit it was me.
Allow me to set the scene. First week of promotion out of uniform to an HQ management position and feeling very out of place at a desk after 15 years climbing about on ships. A very anxious young man of about 25 approached me and asked if he could speak to me in private. He told me that he had been sitting in trap one with his trousers round his ankles reading the paper and having a fag ( things were different in those days) when a face appeared under the door.
He recognised it as a middle aged chap working on the next team , and as I was his line manager he was reporting it to me to take whatever action I thought was necessary
FWIW, I had an informal chat with my ( more experienced) boss. He suggested that we ensured that such action was possible and so we sauntered into the bog, I sat on the recently vacated seat ( trousers firmly belted ) and he got down on his hands and knees to see if the peepee ( for want of a better phrase ) could have performed the feat.......... I kid you not.....
I subsequently then interviewed the accused, he admitted it and said that it was a compulsion which he was unable to control and promised to reserve his hobby for outside office hours.
I regale you with this little anecdote because over my working lifetime I found myself in many surreal situations
- lady team member who wet her knickers and kept the soiled ones in the drawer of her desk
- arranged a Christmas party at which wives were invited only to find ( too late) that some prankster had booked surprise strippers
et al.
and idly wondered if I was just unlucky or are we all similarly blessed ...??
Allow me to set the scene. First week of promotion out of uniform to an HQ management position and feeling very out of place at a desk after 15 years climbing about on ships. A very anxious young man of about 25 approached me and asked if he could speak to me in private. He told me that he had been sitting in trap one with his trousers round his ankles reading the paper and having a fag ( things were different in those days) when a face appeared under the door.
He recognised it as a middle aged chap working on the next team , and as I was his line manager he was reporting it to me to take whatever action I thought was necessary

FWIW, I had an informal chat with my ( more experienced) boss. He suggested that we ensured that such action was possible and so we sauntered into the bog, I sat on the recently vacated seat ( trousers firmly belted ) and he got down on his hands and knees to see if the peepee ( for want of a better phrase ) could have performed the feat.......... I kid you not.....
I subsequently then interviewed the accused, he admitted it and said that it was a compulsion which he was unable to control and promised to reserve his hobby for outside office hours.
I regale you with this little anecdote because over my working lifetime I found myself in many surreal situations
- lady team member who wet her knickers and kept the soiled ones in the drawer of her desk
- arranged a Christmas party at which wives were invited only to find ( too late) that some prankster had booked surprise strippers
et al.
and idly wondered if I was just unlucky or are we all similarly blessed ...??