(Note: the following story is not true.)
The value of... keeping your mouth shut? Of not saying anything stupid? Of knowing when to blush? When not to blush? You tell me.
So the other night I'm at a Hen's Party (aka a bachelorette party). We dressed the poor blushing bride up in ridiculous tiaras and banners and other embarrassing things and hit the town. Visited a few restaurants and made general fools of ourselves, as much as a bunch of teetotalers can. This mostly involved the naughtiest jokes we knew and forcing the bride to get her picture taken with random strangers.
After discovering that the only Adult shop in town was closed for the evening (Sorry Clemmie, no Naughty Nurse costume for your honeymoon), we retreated to a local fast food restaurant for ice cream and ribald conversation.
This particular fast food joint was just across the parking lot from the local watering hole. All the local bogan nightlife were coming out to party. I had a most excellent seat at, facing the window looking out of the parking lot, and my back to the door. I saw all sorts of interesting creatures walk by.
One particularly tarted-up sheila wobbled towards the pub on her obnoxiously high-heels. "Hey, look!" I called out to my fellow partygoers. "The stripper's here!"
Instead of turning around to stare at some hapless young lady, every woman at my table went real quiet. "Your Grace," one of them hissed at me, sotto voce. She pointed behind me with a clandestine finger.
"What?" Only then, did I turn around to see two policemen having walked into the joint.
Oh yeah. They'd heard me.
Lucky for me, stupidity is not a crime.