Pete's Prophylactic

Bogsville stud Pete started his gallivanting back in the days when the Beatles were in short pants and Elvis was King Creole. Getting hold of condoms was a trifle tricky then because you had to go to a shop that sold surgical goods. Hidden away somewhere among the clutter of artificial legs, rupture trusses, elasticated stockings and bedpans would be a box of durex packs. Pete was on a promise with the Bogsville bike, Lulu Pantsdown but only if he could prove to her that he had a condom.

Pete asked me to give him moral support one Wednesday afternoon. We stood outside "Le Brasseur" the surgical goods shop, looking in the window. Eventually he said, "Sod it. I'm going in. Come on."

I followed him in and we stood there while the thin faced, elderly shop assistant gave us the once over. "Yes gentlemen? And how may I help you?"
"I'd like a condom please," the would be stud announced proudly.
"A condom," said the guy behind the counter."Certainly sir. Would you like it gift wrapped or are you going to wear it?"