Shock therapy

A few years ago I spent a great weekend in France with Vince & Dave rewiring our old house there. Having come back from a meal and a few beers at about 1am we entered the house in total darkness. Vince went ahead with his torch and unbeknown to me he’d decided to finish the last light socket upstairs. He was standing on a chair with his torch in his mouth, holding the bare wires when I turned the power on at the mains.

Last week I was in the pub and it was quite late, so rather than call him I decided to send him a text (I hadn’t got email working on my new phone). The next day I got this email from him:

“Friday 25th August, 11:13 pm.

…Vincent is finally deep in the land of nod.

On the bedside table, 3 inches from his head, is a precariously ballanced pile of tat, including but not restricted to two wallets, his glasses, a pile of loose change, currency of several denominations, yesterdays coffee cup (unfinished), a glass of water (full), a lamp, a couple of novels, an alarm clock, a picture frame, several CD’s …… oh and a mobile phone (in case of emergencies).

He forgot to turn off the phone; a phone that had been left set to outdoor with vibrate on.

At this moment and completely out of character, his good friend the Crampton decides to forgoe e-mail and use SMS text messaging.

Now wet and covered in tat, Vincent reaches for switch to the bedside lamp forgetting that it is not a good idea to handle electrical appliances with wet hands and for the second time in his life he gets a belt courtesy of one of his best friends…”

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