Some great stories on this thread boys and girls.
Here's one not City related, but involves sport, sleep, beer and stupidity beyond belief.
Me and another Leicester branch member got invited to watch Leicester Tigers v Wasps in some stupid egg-chasing Cup Final at Twickenham, so we thought fuck it we'll give it a go. Lets see how these rugger buggers do a match day piss up. After drinking all day and totally steaming, after the game we ended up in a pub called the Cabbage Patch, which apparently had a reputation for stupid pranks and was legendary for rugby types. We agreed that anything they got up to, we'd go one better. It was rammed outside the pub and there were some traffic lights and lots of traffic. People were mooning at cars, chucking them strange shaped balls at cars, rugby tackling cars (I kid you not), sticking spuds on exhaust pipes, that kinda thing. I could see my daft pissed as a fart mate, observing and taking it all in, muttering to himself. Surveying the scene with the one eye that wasn't rolling to the back of his daft head. Suddenly, he runs into the traffic, opens the boot of a car and climbs in. He called to some bloke, eh up r kid, shut this for me, so he obliged. I thought the driver would get out and fuck my mate off, but there was that much going on she stayed still and drove off with my mate in the boot. Everyone was pissing themselves, some were slightly concerned and I just stood there in stunned silence. An hour went by, no sign of him. Another hour came and went. Couldn't get hold of him. He could literally have been anywhere. We had a train to catch at St Pancras so I jumped on the tube, thinking he might head there. No sign of him. Was starting the get really worried, thinking what the fuck am I going to tell his mrs?? The phone went and it was him and the conversation went something like this...
"Where the fuck are you?"
"The Pub"
"Which fucking pub you bellend"
"The Cabbage Patch"
"Eh?"
"How did you get back there?"
"I got a lift"
"Who off?"
"The lady who drove off with me in the boot"
"What the fuck are you on about and why would she give a lift to a random bloke she found in her boot?"
"She was doing an extra shift"
"Where?"
"At the fucking Cabbage Patch - you coming or what?"
So, she worked at the pub where he jumped in. What's the odds on that? She drove home. He fell asleep in the boot. She probably had some food, shower, change of clothing, read a book, did her nails, then left the house to set off back to the pub. He woke up when she started the engine, shat himself, banged on the boot totally confused at the situation he found himself in, thinking he'd been kidnapped (he actually though that). She panicked and got her dad to open it and found my mate. He introduced himself, apologised for being a twat, they saw the funny side so she offered him a lift back to the pub.
The one and only time we ever went to a rugby game.
