Chatterbox Friday

Chumbles: When I was 16, I'd caught the London Transport 718 at Loughton Bus Dept, with a return, to the London Transport 718 Staines Dept to play at the Folk Festival. I got off, with an admonishment from the driver that the last return was 2h 30 a.m. err by which I  was cuddled up with my love...

I legged it as fast as I could to see the bus... just in time to see the bus disappear; 4h to wait until the return... I went out in the country rather than getting buzzed by the fuzzzz like the rest of us. I found what had a couple of years before been a Spinney where I could get out of the wretched wind and dump the poor inoffensive turd without my arse freezing...

...then up into the Telephone opposite the then Lucan Arms. Destry may just be aware of why police+warm telephone box+a pub owned by the 7th Earl...


When the box had got warm the fuzz realised, after my pathetic explanation and the warm air had disappeared, the buggers left me there, rather than tank me...

Tanked to save from crud