Monday, October 11, 2010


A couple of weeks back I was away in Bundoran for my brother-in-law's stag party. A group of his friends are as much my wife's friends as his, so I know them pretty well at this stage and get on most chummily with them. One of the lads, Kevin, who is also soon to be married, was laughing at the fact that his bride-to-be had, at one stage or another, snogged several of his mates. He doesn't care, this was long before his time and such things inevitably happen between any group of intergender mates. Then he looked mischievously at me and, expecting to get a rise out of me, said "But do you know which of the lads has snogged Rosie?"

It so happens that I do. Barry is sitting opposite me and, bless him, has started shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Barry is the very definition of a decent skin and is happily settled with a lovely young lady, so I really don't have an issue with my wife having kissed him on a night out many moons before we even met. We don't talk about exes much but she had told me about Barry, perhaps to help me avoid an awkward situation such as the one Kevin has just tried to engineer.

"Yeah, just Barry, right?" I hope Barry doesn't take my just as being dismissive of his tonsil-tickling abilities, more that I'm glad he was the only one. The direction of conversation is swiftly turned to the direction of 'Members of the Irish rugby team whom Kevin has nearly come to blows with in a nightclub' and everyone is drunk and happy.

The next morning, cruelly, we go surfing. I manage to avoid everyone seeing how bad I am at surfing by never even attempting to mount the board. "Waves just weren't right for me, man" I opine to anyone within earshot. Back at the surfclub everyone hits the scaldingly hot showers to try and reverse the damage two hours in the North Atlantic in October can do to a body. Barry is in before before I am. He is the only bloke to have dropped his trunks. Barry is a hurler and you can always recognise the lads who play team-sports as the ones who are happy to let everything hang out in public showers.

Here is, roughly, my thought process:

1. Dropping my shorts will surely help my frozen, shrivelled bollocks to resume normality that bit faster. It's only sensible.

2. Barry's a hurler and I'm a hockey player. Hockey players get a bad enough rap in the man-stakes without people thinking we're afraid to get it out.

3. Barry (and everyone else there) might think he has a far bigger lad than I do. I can't honestly tell if he does or not but, nevertheless, This Will Not Do. Sometimes things are just that primal.


So I strip off my shorts and stand there with Barry and six uncomfortable-looking, beshorted men. Hot water dribbles down our flaccid mickeys as I will a restoration of girth and pretend not to be sneaking glimpses.

13 comment(s):

emordino said...


Or this is always an option.

Andrew said...

Bless you, Eli Mordino, for sparing me the ignominy of getting no comments on this post. It's almost as though people don't feel comfortable commenting on a post about pettiness and penises.

Also, that is a truly excellent clip.

Jo said...

Bahahhahha, emordino stole the show. Hi-larious.

Bah, no comments, Andrew, you don't post regularly enough notto have to wait for them.

Labels: idiot?

Well, labels: Men, I say. Bless you, you poor creatures.

Kitty Catastrophe said...

Can't remember what I was going to say now, after reading emordino's comment. It was definitely something great though. Either way, this is still another comment for you I suppose. Woo!

Annie said...


Does Barry read this blog?

Andrew said...

Jo - Yes, damn him and his encyclopedic knowledege of all the good shit on the interweb.
And I get what you mean about not posting regularly enough, but surely that makes no odds to people who subscribe to my feed?

Kitty Cat - Thank you, you're a lady. I think I was just a little worried that I'd finaly crossed the line between 'bit of an overshare' and 'downright discomforting to anyone who reads it'.

Annie - I certainly fucking hope not. Though his name has been cleverly changed, so I'm sure he'd never recognise himself here.

Jo said...

Good point, re feeds. I know nothing of that, for I am old and don't think about such things.

There's no such thing as overshare, it's Blogging

Your title is great, btw.

wv: sautily

White Rabbit said...

Ahahahahaha quality read Sir.

What was the first thing that was said in the showers? I can't imagine conversation was comfortable?

KFS said...

I thought shower modesty was a girl thing? not casting aspersions like, but covering up in a public changing room is a bit victorian. Demonstrating sidekicks in such bare circumstances, however, is a no-no (I have witnessed this. The horror, the horror).

Unknown said...

You have no cause for anxiety if 'Barry' uttered the word 'Dude' at any wet or dry stage of the stag.

Andrew said...

ALB - I imagine I made some comment re the coldness of my genitals. That would be par for the course.

KFS - I dunno, it seems to vary wildly from situation to situation. I remember feeling like an absolute muppet for being the only one wearing togs in a sauna in Finland. I'd generally shower in the nip in pools here, but you feel like a bit of a paedo when a load of kids are standing near you.

And as for sidekicks? *shudder*

Conan - You mean that people who use the word 'dude' would never read a blog? Actually, that sounds about right.

Voodoolady said...

Heh,I think that I actually feel more comfortable commenting about penises than other subjects.

I have often asked the OH about this and he always says he never looks but I know all men must. Tis human nature.

Bonn said...

I cried myself laughing at this earlier. I'm glad I'm not a man sometimes.