Hunting For a Hottie
I spent yesterday evening hunting for a hottie on a Scout Camp.. before anyone has a fit about what an ancient like me was doing up there on the camp.. let me explain
My son and his friend were taking part in a "wide game" with their local scout troup last night. The venue was some distance away, so going home in between drop off and pick up was out of the question. My original idea was to repair to a local pub for a drink whilst they were crashing around in the woods, however the track to the camp was so bad that I decided it was better to stay put.
"Aha!", I thought with glee, "I can have a play with my laptop; there is bound to be some kind of net access around the camp centre" I proceded to play "hunt the hotspot" around the camp centre.
It was not to be. It seems that wireless-ness (!) is yet to reach the "dib dib dib, dob dob dobb"-ers. There was no "bit bit bit, byte byte byte" for me.
Mildly miffed, I pulled out my book and began reading. Nature had other ideas. Of all the things, I found myself desperate to use the bathroom. A quick recce established that the camp centre was closed and I could see no other loos. From experience, it was likely that the ablutions blocks were deeper into the camp. They could be anywhere! I tried to ignore the feeling and get stuck into the book. Every now and again, I found myself eyeing up the greenery; automatically sizing up the cover. It was too risky! At any moment, a herd of teenage boys were likely to come hurtling through any safe spot I had selected.
After an hour I was reduced to pacing around the car, to try to take my mind off my protesting body. Just as I was about to head for the bushes, now willing to risk one potential embarrassment for a certain one if I did not do something, the camp warden appeared out of nowhere. Aaargh!
I think he must have been watching my antics; he was smirking. I swallowed my pride and asked - he took pity on me and directed me to the nearest loos.
A short ramble and nine million midge bites later, I felt like a new woman.
Hunt for a hotspot?.. hunt for a hot pot more like!
My son and his friend were taking part in a "wide game" with their local scout troup last night. The venue was some distance away, so going home in between drop off and pick up was out of the question. My original idea was to repair to a local pub for a drink whilst they were crashing around in the woods, however the track to the camp was so bad that I decided it was better to stay put.
"Aha!", I thought with glee, "I can have a play with my laptop; there is bound to be some kind of net access around the camp centre" I proceded to play "hunt the hotspot" around the camp centre.
It was not to be. It seems that wireless-ness (!) is yet to reach the "dib dib dib, dob dob dobb"-ers. There was no "bit bit bit, byte byte byte" for me.
Mildly miffed, I pulled out my book and began reading. Nature had other ideas. Of all the things, I found myself desperate to use the bathroom. A quick recce established that the camp centre was closed and I could see no other loos. From experience, it was likely that the ablutions blocks were deeper into the camp. They could be anywhere! I tried to ignore the feeling and get stuck into the book. Every now and again, I found myself eyeing up the greenery; automatically sizing up the cover. It was too risky! At any moment, a herd of teenage boys were likely to come hurtling through any safe spot I had selected.
After an hour I was reduced to pacing around the car, to try to take my mind off my protesting body. Just as I was about to head for the bushes, now willing to risk one potential embarrassment for a certain one if I did not do something, the camp warden appeared out of nowhere. Aaargh!
I think he must have been watching my antics; he was smirking. I swallowed my pride and asked - he took pity on me and directed me to the nearest loos.
A short ramble and nine million midge bites later, I felt like a new woman.
Hunt for a hotspot?.. hunt for a hot pot more like!