Not an embarrassing tale of woe, but a tale of wee & woe.

In the year after our marriage, my brother and me took our brides on a tour of the west country in a dormobile.

We parked up in a dark deserted track, happily there was a pub nearby. We drank pints & pints of the local scrumpy
& had to get up several times during the night. Very inconvenient because our bunks were in the extended roof part.
In the morning we looked out of the window & were horrified to note that we were on the edge of a huge cliff & when we pee'd were only feet away from falling to our certain death.

Gives a whole new meaning to the expression
"Dying for a pee"

I've been stood at the gent's urinal when I've been abroad when a load of women waltzed in to use the cubicles........when the queue at the ladies' has been too long. Nobody (except me) seemed to mind.