Walking off the plane in DC onto the bus tram thing that will take us to passport control. I’m carrying my carry-on, hand bag and my rucksack with my very heavy computer. Rucksack is slung over my right shoulder. All of a sudden I feel a snap and I feel a bit free. I realise with a small amount of oh god why me, that the rucksack has managed to do what most boys I have been with are unable to do. . . unhook my bra strap.
I sit down next to my ex boss who is now my dotted line manager.
I reach behind myself up under the shirt and refasten the girls. There was no way I could do this manoeuvre subtly.
“Excuse me. My bag just unhooked my bra.”
Mark looked bemused and thankfully looked away.
May 7th, 2008 at 10:39 pm
‘The Girls’ - heh…