I picked up four lads who were on a stag do in rural Norfolk. They were staying on a boat on the Broads, but wanted to go into Norwich for the last few hours of drinking. Rather than going the long way round via the main roads, I chose instead to take the back roads to our fine city.
As we travelled through the winding lanes in the pitch black countryside, one of the lads looked up, and surveyed the landscape with confusion.
“Where the @&£% are we?” he exclaimed. “I have no @&£%ing idea where we are.”
Before I could answer, he eyed me with suspicion. “You’re not taking us dogging, are you?”
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