I wrote this a month ago on the way to work but completely forgot to post it. I’m posting it now because I can…
I do not believe it!
One week into a brand new job and I’m sat here on a train in split trousers!
I only started here last Tuesday and have been parading myself about in a whole wardrobe of carefully purchased new clothes. 13 years of service at my last place had dwindled down my attention to detail on the dressing front, let’s just say I wasn’t putting much effort in, so when I was preparing to start anew I headed into town to stock up.
New trousers, new shirts, new ties. I even bought some new razors so I could remember to shave in the mornings.
I’m a new man.
But after only 5 days I’m going to be revealing the real me in the office today and I’m gutted.
I stood, just now, to let a guy sit in the window seat and when I sat back down all I could hear was tearing.
My pocket had snagged onto the centre armrest. I’ve torn a gaping crevasse into the side of my trousers. I can’t cover it. I can’t get off the train and go home.
I’m such an arse.
So there goes my new image – the confident, energetic, fresh and dare I say sexy, potential leader of men has dissolved already back into the shambolic, scruffy, bumbling buffoon that he was before.
I guess I’ll spend the whole day walking around with my hand pressed against my hip. Looking camp has to be better than looking tramp, right?
Update: I did indeed spend the whole day trying to cover it up with my hand. I failed to fool anyone. Now they think I’m a camp tramp.