Phone Booth

london red phone booth picture

So we decided to see how many people we could fit into a telephone booth - it was Jay's idea, no surprises there; bloody lunatic is going to kill himself one day trying to see if death is bad as they say. It wasn't so much that we wanted to break any records; more an excuse to get drunk afterwards and get up close to the girls without being slapped.

We decided that the largest people should go in first, something Anna was not too pleased about – she describes herself as buxom, which while true, is only part of a much bigger truth. Getting the first ten in was amusing enough, and apart from a few protests from the girls at being groped, it all went pretty well.  The rest however were more trouble and by the time I clambered to the top and squeezed into the last available space, tempers were pretty high.

“Where's the feckin' photographer?” swore Jim, “I'm dying here.”

“I'll call and see where he is,” said Juliette, “Anyone got 20p?”"

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