Posted by Skyhook
on Thu 5 Nov 09, 10:57 PM to Skyhook's blog.
I'd like to say it's down to it being the 5th of November and my impeccable comic timing and my willingness to go that extra mile for a jape, but in all honesty this situation occurred because I can be a right divot sometimes.
I have a heater under one of my desks in the office. Originally it was out in the open but my extension leads kept getting nicked by the office fairies during the night and it now only reaches the wall socket if I put it under the desk. It's easy to forget it's there – oh, it warms the area eventually, but stand close to it and it feels about as effective at generating heat as a row of fifty ants stamping their feet, huffing and blowing on their hands. And we all know how that feels.
Get very close however, say touching for example, and bizarrely it turns into the sort of thing that normally has Red Adair cancelling the newspapers and wetting the tip of his expenses claim pen.
Many a time I push my chair away, walk away from my desk then have to scuttle back when I remember to make sure it, and my jacket that usually hangs off the back of it, is not touching The World's Hottest Coldest HeaterTM.
Business as usual today; a project is going the precise Oxford English Dictionary definition of 'tits up'. Luckily it isn't one on which I was the designer, unluckily it is one I'm trying to engineer to cocking work. So, blokey who passed this project to me when he reached his ceiling of competence is at my desk to ask how it's going. I stand up so I can fully vocalise and express myself through the medium of gesticulation and quaint Anglo-Saxon terms of affection.
We become aware, slowly, of a rather pervasive smell. Normally this is down to the New Boy in the corner and his on-going troublesome bowel difficulties, but this is even worse. Nostradamus-like, I suddenly had an inkling of a clue about what was causing the nasal cacophony, which gave me a bit of a dilemma.
On the one hand I wanted to rescue my jacket, but on the other hand I couldn't work out a way to save male dignity and still say “excuse me, I need to break into this conversation and sort out a very silly thing that I have just done”.
In the end the dilemma was solved by the mounting and indeed rising amount of smoke surrounding us.
“Is that your jacket on fire?” asked blokey, showing the trademark attention to detail and problem solving nous that got his project into the seven shades of shite it's currently in in the first place.
“Why yes, it is”, said I. “Thank you, Sherlock”.
Burning leather makes the most amazing nostril coating smell, I couldn't help note as I grabbed my jacket and frantically beat at the smoking sleeve in a nonchalant not-frantically-beating-the-smoking-sleeve-of-an-ex pensive-leather-jacket kinda way.
“Would you mind excusing me for a second?” I said, walking away, jacket smoking like a comedy magic effect, heading for the toilet and the nearest tap.
I think I pulled it off you know, just about. Walking down the corridor, magic jacket at arms length. I think my expression was just right, if I may flatter myself, a look of resigned confusion – “What? You've never seen a man walking to the toilets with his jacket on fire before?” I may have even rolled my eyes, but I am prepared to admit that was over egging the pudding a bit.
The jacket, sadly is muldered. It is twatted beyond repair. The leather is crinkled more than Keef Richards' face. Iggy Pop would consider it looks a bit rough. Leslie Ash, however, would probably say it still had a bit of life left in it.
I loved that jacket. Being a man of…ahem…compact stature… jacket shopping can be a trial. But this one…I saw it… loved the style…and in a fairytale fashion it fitted me when I finally tried it on. I say finally as it was the hundred-and-thirty-fourth jacket I'd tried on that week, and I'd given up hope that I'd ever find a garment that suited my (short) ass to the (very close) ground. I was Cinderella going to the ball, but with fewer pumpkins.
Tomorrow is jacket shopping day, then.
If you are a clothing shop assistant in Nottingham or Meadowhall I apologise in advance if you are faced with a strangely attractive fella tomorrow ranting at the mirror that “It makes me look like a fooking Oompa-Loompa!” and questioning you on the fire retardant properties of the item in question.
| 5 Nov 09, 11:08 PM little_belle UK(E), 3 yrs   |
Urgh, you just made me do a laugh-snort! Good luck finding a jacket! I had a recent Cinderalla moment with a beautiful dress I found that I was most sceptical about. But it somehow fit me and didn't cling to my plumpy tummy bits and didn't make me look even smaller than the 4ft11 I am (bet I beat ya there!) I was well chuffed I tell thee. And it was £17! Hah!
Anyhoo...new clothes is fun. Look on the bright side. And you got a great anecdote out of the old one Hewwo! I make nylon whips. Take a peek at my profile if you'd like to buy one. | |
| 5 Nov 09, 11:41 PM WykD_Dave UK(DE), 9 yrs |
Now that's comedy. Really, really made me laugh out loud.
Lovely sunshine girl | |
| 6 Nov 09, 12:22 AM Diablos_patience UK, 5 yrs |
i would have paid good money to have seen that  ~* Raku wa ku no tané; ku wa raku no tané. *~ | |
| 6 Nov 09, 12:35 AM LittleMissEvil UK(BR), 4 yrs |
hehehe that brought a smile to my face and made my sides hurt  Some people say i am evil, i have no idea why they think that. | |
| 6 Nov 09, 12:55 AM Hells_Bells UK(G), 6 yrs |
I wish I'd never moved away from Sheffield now. I'd pay to see that shopping trip tomorrow :D Outside of a dog, a book is a man's best friend. Inside of a dog, it's too dark to read. ~ Groucho Marx | |
| 6 Nov 09, 2:45 AM Souci_X UK(BA), 5 yrs |
Ha, the thought is almost worth the purchase of a train ticket.
As twue as words spoken under interrogation. | |
| 6 Nov 09, 4:36 PM Elven_Eyes UK, 5 yrs |
Other than laughing at your difficulties, which I will do, extensively, later, I suggest you look at the tag of your ruined jacket. Get a brand, whatever you can. Search it in google, find out who makes and distributes said coat. Check stores for the same coat or slightly different newer models. Ebay is a decent last recourse. An ex one put in my keeping his most beloved SWEATER, which he wore as a fleece. One puppy later, it was fleece. I had to replace ASAP. He never noticed the difference. "The chaperon is there to make sure no one else has any fun, but nobody chaperons the chaperon. That's why I'm so right for this job." -Jane Russell as Dorothy Shaw, "Gentlemen Prefer Blondes" | |
| 6 Nov 09, 5:16 PM MsNemi UK, 4 yrs |
I'm wondering if I have enough petrol in the car...
Never thought I'd consider shopping as a spectator sport.
One of God's own prototypes, a high powered mutant of some kind, never considered for mass production. Too weird to live, too rare to die. | |
| 8 Nov 09, 10:06 PM Story_of_Ow UK(PO), 3 yrs |
That's really funny!!!
BTW... I'm not one to be petty but you do realise that you have a picture of my flat in one of your photos |
