Grope? … Nope.

Years ago - in the late seventies - a friend (Annie — I won’t mention her surname) told the story of being groped in a Canberra Nightclub. It was crowded and there was a queue for the ladies, so she stood near the bar waiting for the queue to dwindle. As she told it, she REALLY REALLY needed to pee. You can guess what happened. A guy moved up behind her and put his hand up her dress. Startled, she let it all go, and HE was the one who yelled. She thought that it was funny, but she wasn’t too impressed with her new nickname. Puddles.

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