It is strange how certain seemingly non-eventful things suddenly trigger a reminder of other non-eventful happenings from the dim and distant past. This morning at work, as I was leaving the loo, a colleague entered with a stash of papers complaining that there was nowhere to put stuff while you went about your business. I was immediately transported back nearly thirty years to the time when I was training to be a humble buyer at Swallow Manufacturing. My mentor, the long-late Mr George Blackmore, and the man I would eventually replace, had come steaming out of the toilet sporting a look that was both a smirk and a grimace. "You'll never guess what I've just seen", he announced in an indignant fashion, "I've just seen Charlie Farley standing at the urinal, pissing, and reading a price list. Dirty bugger!" With a sense of rage he went on, "It was quite embarrassing as I don't think he realised I was there at first. I didn't know whether to make my excuses and leave, or offer to hold his willy while he turned the page." Oh how we laughed. Well, chortled a bit. I sniggered to myself today about it. But then I'm easily amused.
