Well not even I believe this one, I think I must have spent the last year in some sort of dream state, meaning that this blog and everyone of you reading it are not real. So if you would all be kind enough to pinch yourselves and save me the hassle that would be great!
Last week my wife and I were in a large local department store. As usual she was browsing all manner of skirts, tops, shoes, scarfs, bedding, coats, trousers and the occasional spatula.
As you might imagine, I reluctantly pried myself away from this ‘browsing’ and started to wander around the store. I looked at the occasional item, such as the credit card swiss army knife, but thought better of it, as I get myself into enough trouble without weaponry. Eventually I found my way to the mens shoe rack. Now I’m not one to boast but finding shoes that fit me is somewhat of a rarity, and when I found not one pair but no pairs that I could even get a foot into, I was not remotely surprised.
At this stage I began to get a little tired and began to search for my better half. I got up from the bench where I had been trying on shoes and slung my laptop bag over my shoulder, with one strap over my right shoulder and the other hanging loose. Take note of that, its actually important!
I started to look around the store for my wife and caught sight of her examining a multitude of trousers. She evidently had not yet moved on to spatulas. I began to make my way toward her and after about ten strides noticed a tugging from behind. Immediately I adjusted the laptop bag I was carrying as I just assumed it was the strap sitting awkwardly on my shoulder. Having done that I continued walking and after another ten or so strides I started to feel the tugging again. This time I turned around to try and see what it was.

What I saw next horrified me as I actually thought I was going to get into serious trouble, the kind of trouble where you only get to see your family from the other side of some very large bars!

The item doing the tugging that I had been noticing was in fact a pram. It seems that on my journey across the store, the loose strap on my laptop bag had snagged the handle bars, and you guessed it, this pram had a baby included. It seems I had inadvertently towed this little one across the store away from its mother, a mother that was now heading toward me with great speed and phenomenal determination!
In my panic I yelled “I’m Sorry, I didn't mean to” but before the sentence had left my mouth she grabbed the pram and made an expression that made me feel like she was about to pummel me. I honestly think that she was about to call security but thankfully I managed to explain to her that that I had accidently towed her baby away with the loose strap on my laptop bag. Thankfully she seemed to accept this, but she still departed my presence quite rapidly!

On a finishing note there is one good thing I can take from this story:

I’m glad I didn’t try and go downstairs.

There are some situations that are so simple that nothing could possibly go wrong. Many would think the following situation is such. Many are wrong.

The year was 1998 and I was just about to start a new job with a financial services company in Dublin, Ireland. One of the perks of this new job was excellent health cover. Those of you whom follow this blog, will know that such 'perks' are a necessity for yours truly. In order to avail of this health cover all new staff members were subjected to a very vigorous medical examination, where no stone was left unturned, if you catch my drift……

The examination was to take place in the doctors office on the top floor of an old georgian building in Dublin. On my entrance to the building I was coincidentally greeted by the doctor and brought straight upstairs, skipping the usual reception registration process.

Surprisingly there were no surprises during the examination itself. Looking back on it, it seems like the situation itself was luring me into a false sense of confidence, confidence that this was all going to go off without a hitch.

After the examination itself was over, and after I had regained my respectability I was handled a sample jar and asked to go to the bathroom and produce a urine sample. This seemed like a simple task, and it was. I went to the bathroom, very readily provided an ample sample (no rhyme intended). I had been requested to drop off the sample at reception on my way out of the building. So with this in mind, I descended the stairs to make my way down three levels to the ground floor. Now this was a building that had offices for several companies apart from the doctor I was visiting, this is a fact I now wish I had paid more attention to.
Once I got to the ground floor and set about looking for the reception desk. Still not having realised that several companies were in this building and not having had to register on the way in, I went straight for the first reception desk I saw, straight through the door in front of me after I descended the stairs.

Upon entry to the office I went to the desk, at which a young woman aged about 25 was sitting. I immediately, and quite awkwardly placed my clear jar of urine down on the desk in front of her and said "this is for you I believe – my name is Peter Neill". I immediately saw a look of confusion on her face, she then picked up the jar and started to scrutinise it. Not too impressed I was about to step back and leave when she started to open the jar to have a sniff. I immediately copped on that she did not realise what it was, and I yelled "Don't, its my urine!!!". The girl promptly screamed, slammed the cap back on the jar, banged it onto the table and ran to the sink in the kitchenette to wash her hands.
After a few seconds she returned and angrily asked me "Why are you giving me your wee, thats disgusting?!"

I replied "The doctor told me to give you my sample on the way out!"

Her reply, one that left me stunned was :

" This is a solicitors office!!! The doctors reception is across the hall! "

This little accident is one of the verbal kind. Needless to say the effect can be devastating in its own special way.
The year was 1998 and I was living with my parents in an Irish city called Kilkenny. My father at the time was the Bishop of the diocese covering that area.

One evening in the winter of that year my parents had to go out to some function or other, I don't remember what it was, but more than likely it was a service of some kind. During this time I was sat at home watching the television flicking through the channels, enjoying the novelty of having more than six to choose from!
However my channel surfing was short lived as shortly after my parents left the phone rang.
I ran to answer the phone, picked it up and said:

"Hello, See House, Peter Speaking" ('See' been the fancy name for a Bishop's residence)

"Hello, I wish to speak to the Bishop, is he available?"

"I'm afraid not, he is out this evening"

"That's Okay, Can you tell him that the Mayor rang, that's the Mayor of Kilkenny, spelt M.A.Y.O.R"

Taken aback by this spelling lesson I all too quickly engaged my lips before I could engage anything else! :

"Well! If its M.A.R.E you're a mighty intelligent horse!"

Too say this was met with a silence is something of an understatement. Thankfully after what seemed like ten seconds of silence (but was probably four), the Mayor responded:

"We'll I'm sure I'm not, just tell him that I called.....Goodbye!"

For anyone reading this who is for some bizarre reason considering hiring me for a public relations job....DON'T!