This is another collection of stories brought back from Russia.
It all started with the rumours that the KGB had bugs everywhere and were listening to you all the time. It was mostly the foreign diplomats who were worried by this, as they had the most reason to be bugged; not one of "them," you see...
There was the report of one particularly worried American Diplomat who was convinced that somewhere in his hotel room there was a bug. He'd spend hours at night searching the room furtively for any sign of it, all to no avail. Then, late one evening, he pulled up the carpet and discovered these wires running underneath it and through a small hole in the floor. Obviously, these were the power leads for the bug, not being big enough to supply power to the whole hotel, so he cut them.
There was a tremendous crash as the chandelier on the next floor down crashed to the ground.
A perhaps more spooky case came from a British Diplomat who didn't really believe
in these tales of bugs until one fateful evening. He came back one evening with a
friend of his and they decided that they were hungry and wanted to make some
sandwiches. Looking in the fridge, however, they discovered that there as no
butter.
"That's funny." said the British Diplomat. "I could have sworn there was some there
this morning."
His friend replied, with a laugh, that maybe it was the maid who took it. Both of
them laughed, made dry sandwiches and the matter was forgotten. Until three
o'clock in the morning...
There was a hard banging on the door and when the diplomat opened it he discovered
his maid there, in tears.
"I didn't steal you butter!" she cried.
My parents were rather amused by these two stories and decided to put the theory to practice one day.
They came down with rather a bad case of food poisoning (from the British Embassy)
and had to go into hospital for a few days. The first morning, they were brought a
bowl of porridge for breakfast, which was fine except for the fact that it had salt
in it. My parents, not knowing what else to do, gazed up to the ceiling and said
in a clear voice:
"Excuse me. But we don't like salt in our porridge."
The next two mornings that they were in hospital, the porridge arrived saltless...
|
|