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Metropolis Reality Forums « The Old Gas Station »

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   The Old Gas Station
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   Author  Topic: The Old Gas Station  (Read 133 times)
luci
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The Old Gas Station
« on: Sep 3rd, 2004, 8:43pm »
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 The service station trade was slow.  
     The owner sat around,  
 With sharpened knife and cedar stick.  
 Piled shavings on the ground.  
 
 No modern facilities had they,  
 The log across the rill  
 Led to a shack, marked His and Hers  
 That sat against the hill.  
 
 "Where is the ladies restroom, sir?"  
 The owner leaning back,  
 Said not a word but whittled on,  
 And nodded toward the shack.  
 
 
 
    With quickened step she entered there  
  But only stayed a minute,  
  Until she screamed, just like a snake  
  Or spider might be in it.  
 
  With startled look and beet red face  
  She bounded through the door,  
  And headed quickly for the car.  
  Just like three gals before.  
 
 
  She tripped and fell -- got up,  
  and then In obvious disgust,  
  Ran to the car, stepped on the gas,  
  And faded in the dust.  
 
  Of course we all desired to know  
  What made the gals all do  
  The things they did, and then we found  
   The whittling owner knew.  
 
  A speaking system he'd devised  
  To make the thing complete,  
  He tied a speaker on the wall  
  Beneath the toilet seat.  
 
 
 
  He'd wait until the gals got set  
  And then the devilish guy,  
  Would stop his whittling long enough,  
  To speak into the mike.  
 
  And as she sat, a voice below  
  Struck terror, fright and fear  
  "Will you please use the other hole,  
  We're painting this one!
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"A friend is someone who knows the song in your heart and
can sing it back to you when you have forgotten the words."
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Pocket
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Re: The Old Gas Station
« Reply #1 on: Sep 3rd, 2004, 9:25pm »
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OMG----that's funny, but I have a funny real story.   When I was pg with my third child, we came to Texas on a family visit.   A fishing trip was planned.  I tried to bow out, but was talked into it.   We split up into two boats, and off we went.   Naturally, Wink what happens, happened.  I had to empty my bladder, which by the 7th month was greatly diminished in capacity. (If you guys cringe at female stuff, quit now)
I balked at going over the side, as was suggested to me.......I mean my center of gravity wouldn't allow it, nor would my modesty.  We headed for a distant bait shack.  We were in Galveston Bay, btw.  When we finally got there, I headed at a lumbering clip to the bathroom.   It was nice but basic....an "outhouse" suspended over the water.  I started to get ready, but then I heard voices.....and they seemed to be coming from the two-holer.  I peaked in, and down below, two guys in wetsuits were repairing something.  I left the room, reluctantly......I REALLY had to go.   I was about to cry.....but lucky for me, the owner's wife was there, and she sympathized with me and called them out of the water.     So, be warned ladies, voices from the deep aren't necessarily from a speaker.  And my husband wonders why I don't like to fish!
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