For Sale: Foffa Single Speed Custom-built bicycle

When my mates and I finished our A-levels we went interrailing as was the fashion at the time. In Amsterdam we spent a whole day drinking in the park and decided to go back to the hostel to get something to eat. Two of our group got the tram, and took the map with them; us three had to find our own way back. Having drunk perhaps fifty or sixty bottles of beer between us (and thus inventing shoe-bottle skittles) we often needed to piss, but this became increasingly difficult the closer into the city centre we got. One of our party required some assistance walking and was repeatedly turned away from every pissoir for being too drunk.

He slurred into my ear 'I have to piss right now, or I'm going to piss myself'; we straightened him out as best we could, splashed some cold water on his face (canal water... probably not the best idea), and confidently walked into a café. He went straight for the gent's, but realising that there was someone in there, came straight back. We looked around and saw that it was a nice place with families quietly chatting or reading... our porcelain-white mate was driving his fingernails into the bar and sweating intensely trying to hold back his yellow cable. It was inevitable - we heard a splattering sound, and he ran off into the ladies, leaving a trail of piss soaking into the unvarnished floor. My friend and I somehow managed to hold back the laughter until a Dutch man came over and uttered "I sink your friendt is leaking!"

Our pissy friend stayed in the ladies' toilets for thirty minutes, at which point he emerged with dry shorts, went straight up to the bar, and ordered another beer. He had, and still has, no recollection of pissing himself whilst standing at the bar.