We've all had embarrassing moments in our lives..some more than others I guess. I've had few enough that the my embarrassing moments are painful memories that pop up in my mind exactly when they shouldn't. Of course, I'd love to share them with you...but they're embarrassing so I just can't.
I cycle into work. It's 25-30km depending on the route I go, so I don't do it everyday...much as I'd like to I just don't have the enthusiasm or energy. Over the last couple of years I've been doing it twice, maybe even three days a week when its not too cold, not too wet..or just when my laziness doesn't get the better of me. Still, when I do, it's beautiful...somehow you can get right into the centre of London by riding down the canals, avoiding the traffic, and feeling that you're in the countryside.
Naturally enough, when I get to the office I'm hot and sweaty and in need of a shower...it's a good job that I forward planned and had one installed when we bought the place. I bring a change of clothes, so emerge freshly showered and ready for a day's work. Well, that is once, I've checked the news online, checked my e-mails,checked twitter, checked facebook, checked hotmail, checked the blogosphere. And had a mug of tea. And chatted to everyone in the office. But apart from that I'm right down to it.
When it's time to go home, naturally enough I change again into my cycling shorts and pedal off into the sunset. Usually I change in the bathroom, but when I'm the last to leave, I will occasionally change at my desk and pad across the room in my underclothes (sorry, I know that's not a great image for you - I hope you're not reading this over breakfast). No one can see me because we have reflected film on the windows to keep the heat out...I have to be careful in winter when the office lights make it all transparent from the outside - but in summer it is fine.
Last night my fellow office occupiers had all gone...the last to leave before me was The soon-to-be-wed-Spaniard and The soon-to-be-a-house-owner-French-girl. They both went off to the gym. So it was time to change, and I dropped my trousers. Just as the door opened. The Spaniard had returned early. I pulled them up, but heaven only knows what she thought I was doing. Neither of us has mentioned it.
But it hasn't stopped her inviting me to her wedding in Spain in July. British Airways and Icelandic volcanoes allowing.
P.S. I've just embarassed myself. Over at Commonplaces, Kevin recently posted that he'd seen a blue plaque to Terry Hall and Lenny the Lion...I took this as some kind of strange joke, having checked that Terry Hall of The Specials was still alive and kicking. I hadn't realised that the other Terry Hall was the one who put his hand up Lenny The Lion's back, was 80 and died three years ago....I'm too embarassed to add another comment, and hope Mr Musgrove misses this confession completely...