Pants

Hello again, sorry it’s been a while!


I just have not been able to get stuck into writing or reading this week. For a start I currently have a bit of a cold. Don’t panic, it literally is ‘a bit of a cold’, it isn’t anything serious like Man Flu!

At the same time I have been pretty busy at work this week. Don’t panic, I am a telecoms engineer not a social worker or a midwife, when I say I’ve been busy I don’t mean busy like a Nurse, I mean busy like a telecoms engineer. Everything is relative though and sure as ‘eggs is eggs’, I have not been getting my full quota of tea breaks this week!

I’ve been on the road a lot, to Durham, to Birmingham and back and thus my usual commuting writing time has been lost, and then my slight cold has made me too tired to make that up at night.

Even today, back on the train and headed for a more normal day, I am struggling to write anything down. Not because of any good reason (such as having a mildly sore throat or because I only had time for two cups of tea yesterday), but because I just realised that NOTHING funny has happened. Since I last wrote about the inner narrative incident, I’ve not noticed or heard anything blogworthy at all – how rubbish is that?

I did finally write up the piece I mentioned about seeing some celebrities at Paddington Station, but then I realised I hadn’t submitted an article for RBU’s March edition yet, so I gave it away! I’m starting to wish I didn’t as I’m sat here wondering what the hell I’m supposed to talk about today

Except…

Oh yes.

There is one thing I can think of, that made me smile this morning, and it is trouser related. Ladies, you may need a seat, I don’t want you getting all over excited.

As I was driving back from Birmingham last night I listened to the Radio. As I listened ‘Becky’ told of an embarrassing moment a few days earlier when she had been on The Tube.

We heard all about how she had been sat opposite a man and had realised he had a hole in his trousers. The hole was slap bang in the crotch, meaning that – well – his pants were a bit exposed (British pants). They laughed about it and discussed whether she should have said anything to him, clearly he wouldn’t have realised and so would he or wouldn’t he appreciate being told? Becky had finally decided not to say anything and so the man had been left oblivious to his plight.

This went on for a while, and I giggled a little as they went onto talk about commuting in general and it became clear to me that Becky must come into London on the same train line as me; meaning that she probably uses the same Underground station and lines too. I’d only been out of the office for a couple of days so we could easily have shared a tube ride recently. It amused me to think that they might have been talking about me. This is basically down to my absolute belief that I am the only person in the M4 Corridor worth talking about.

This was all very well but not really good blog fodder is it?

No.

But.

This morning I went to put the smart work trousers on that I had not been wearing while on my car travels, but usually wear for the London Office.

And yes.

This is true.

There, in the crotch.

Was a hole.

A real one – right there, where a hole should not be.

Were they talking about me? Were they? I will never know for sure of course but it is entirely possible that I have just been talked about on National Radio. Not about my writing, or my blog, or tireless work for charity (that I fully intend to get around to doing one day), but for my over exposed gentleman’s area. Thinking quickly I changed my dodgy ‘comfortable’ pants to a more secure pair, and wore the trousers anyway.

After all – it’s what my new fans will expect!