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  • I was staying at a hotel with my wife.

    Posh hotel. Very posh. I misremember the occasion – probably some sort of corporate bash.

    So – no - not an anniversary, holiday or birthday.

    Anyway, we had had a very good meal, far too much to drink and I seem to remember that I, at some point, persuaded myself that I was pretty good at “Riverdance” and attempted to demonstrate this to the largely unappreciative gathered throng.

    We got back to our room around two-ish, had a cuddle and slept.

    I woke up at around four o'clock and needed to wee. That is what woke me up. My body needs my attention. When it needs my attention it wakes me up. Nothing I can do about it. I have tried talking to it, saying things like “Can't this wait till morning?”. It has never listened.

    Right. OK. I need a wee. Can't wake her up – she is sleeping so peacefully.

    Must do it quietly. So I do. Takes me a couple of minutes just to get out of the bed without disturbing her. I go to the bathroom and realise that I cannot switch on the lights – that might wake her, let alone the possibility of one of those automatic fans that keep going off in hotel toilets.

    Fine. I will do it in the dark. Wait a minute, I cannot wee in the loo in the dark – I may miss it and wee all over the floor. That will not look good in the morning. Or, I may very well hit the target and that would sound like Niagara. Then you got to think of the flush. That will certainly wake her. If you don't flush, well, you might as well have pissed on the floor.

    No problem. I will wee in the sink. It will be quiet and no-one will know.

    It turns out that Hotel Bathroom Designers are more than aware of what you are up to and so place the sinks frustratingly high so as to make it difficult for you. Not obviously impossible but just enough so that you can hear them laughing as you try.

    Found out that I could just about reach if I stood on tiptoe on one leg. So I did.

    It was then that my wife, contrary to my expectations, appeared in the bathroom doorway and illuminated all.

    “What the Hell do you think you are doing?”, she asked.

    Now – and this is what puzzles me – I am stark naked, standing on tiptoe on one leg, with my wossname in the sink.

    What did she think the options were? How many possible answers are there to that question?

    Like; “Uhhh, I was just checking the train times for tomorrow”, or “I'm sure I lost a condom around here somewhere”, or “Stay away! Or it will get you too!”.

    Actually, I should have used one of those, now I think about it.

    My actual answer; “Well, I'm just pissing in the sink” - whilst pointlessly pointing at the sink I was pissing in – did not go down too well. My further exposition that if the sink was only two feet off the floor she would be pissing in it also, did not help matters.

    Oh well...

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