The exact opposite of erotic...
Many moons ago in the 1970s when I was a student, during the summer hols I worked in a large mental hospital in the North of England as a 'temporary psychiatric nursing assistant'. Ostensibly I was providing relief cover for 'proper' psychiatric nurses. In fact I was given all the shitty jobs. Three weeks on a dysentary ward. *Shudders*

But I spent some time on a ward for 'the bad boys' - the violent ones, the fireraisers, shit-throwers, dead bird eaters, escape artists, compulsive wankers and general chancers. None of them with a mental age of more than five, but in adult bodies with adult urges. Some of the urges were quite strange as we shall see.

Some of our patients spent the day 'at work'. (D'you remember those hand-painted 'Britains' models you used to get? Well, guess who hand-painted them?) Others couldn't hack that, so spent their days in the playground. Apart from breaking up the occasional fight or attempt at buggery, they could be left under 'light supervision'. It really was a playground: it had industrial strength swings, see-saws and climbing frames and a great big fuck-off sandpit.

Sunday was visitors day, so if you were on duty you had to clean the boys up, put them in their Sunday best and impress upon them in the strongest possible terms that they had better behave themselves.

Sunday lunch was always nerve racking. What you didn't want was shit, piss, bad language, inappropriate touching, food throwing or anything that would upset the visitors to put in an appearance. Normally visiting time passed without anything major happening, but one event is indelibly etched into my memory.

There was a commotion at one of the tables, the visitors gaping in horror through the window. And what a sight to behold! One of our largest and ugliest patients was running around the playground, stark naked, laughing manically and furiously wanking his terrifyingly large dick; this and his fist were liberally smothered in some white gunk that he'd found to use as a lubricant. At the crucial moment he launched himself head first (arf!) into the sandpit.

Myself and the charge nurse dragged him inside, yours truly getting the delightful job of cleaning him up and checking for injuries. While cleaning off a thing like a cement condom, I discovered what the lubricant was: toothpaste. Add that to the gravel rash and you can imagine the state of his knob.

I never want to see anything like that again.
( MisterPunch did it that way on, Thu 28 May 2009, 17:55, 9 replies)

aaah!
My eyes...
( rofl harris, Thu 28 May 2009, 18:08, closed)

i still remember that day
mcleans it was
( spimf ™ is whoever you want him to be, Thu 28 May 2009, 18:28, closed)

St George's Hospital per chance?
Or Northgate?
( Davros' Granddad a voice of calm reason in a world of spastics., Thu 28 May 2009, 18:44, closed)

compulsive wankers and general chancers.
BT3A?

clicks
( The Scrunt Wants a Dozen Pints, Thu 28 May 2009, 19:53, closed)

Was it Cranage Hall
in Cheshire?
(Juan Quar is clinging to her front teeth on, Thu 28 May 2009, 20:27, closed)

...
I had my Prom there!
( Agnostic Antichrist Baltimora, Fri 29 May 2009, 9:48, closed)

Thank you for your interest
It was Calderstones, near Whalley in Lancashire.

I did three stints there over consecutive summers which provided me with many anecdotes, most of which deal with very unpleasant things; this is the only* one with the 'unexpected' and 'nudity' elements.

_{*The only half-way amusing one.}
( MisterPunch did it that way on, Fri 29 May 2009, 9:47, closed)

Post the really horrible soul wrenchers
sometime too. With all the recent serious/sad qotws recently, i'm not used to one with this amount of levity.
(Scritty Bakerman., Fri 29 May 2009, 17:46, closed)

*Buys the world's stock of mindbleach*

( idonthaveafunnynickname Drink-Aware? Sure. I'm aware I want another drink., Sat 30 May 2009, 0:50, closed)