Monday morning was all going swimmingly. Not that I was swimming, or even particularly enjoying work - it was completely crazy that morning - but I was busy and fully occupied, and on a Monday that's a good thing.
And then I needed a wee, and my zip jammed. Not a problem, I thought. In these situations you can always "go over the top".
30 minutes later the zipper completely died. A humdinger of a crisis. I did what any man would have done. I rummaged around in my drawer to find some paper-clips and attempted to rectify the situation. My attempts were futile, I'd have had more chance of crossing the Atlantic in a paper cup than of successfully fastening my flies with some paper-clips.
I decided to hold out until lunch, then I could nip out and buy some safety pins. Tell you what, it's torture to have to walk round a busy open-plan office knowing that you're flying low. I reasoned that by walking really fast, no-one would get a chance to notice. I also found by walking while barely moving my legs I could just about hold my flies together by sheer will power. It completely spoilt my walk. I was basically shuffling around at high speed, almost gliding.
Over lunch I bought a pack of safety pins. For the rest of the day my dignity was preserved entirely by two expertly-fastened safety pins. My Dignity, on the other hand, felt traumatised by their proximity. Especially when I had to run for a train.
A Little Girl Feeding Some Baby Crocodiles, 1932
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