Spillage

In the continuing series of articles highlighting my ineptitude it’s time to come clean about my ability to spill things. While growing up there was almost a compeition at the dinner table to be the first to announce who had managed to splash a spot of pasta sauce on themselves.

At work the main danger is, of course, the coffee spill. It is made especially bad because when you are most in need of the coffee is when you are at your most clumsy.

Anyway, on one particular morning a few years ago I managed to spill a cup of coffee completely down my shirt. No amount of washing at the sink was going to sort this problem. Luckily near our office there is a large Marks and Spencer so I walked over and picked up another shirt.

I decided to make some idle chit chat at the till as I often do. And so I pointed out the stain on my shirt and the new shirt, and looking for some kind of reassurance, I said, “I guess you get a lot of people buying shirts at times like this”.

She looked at me, looked down at the till, tapped some buttons, looked back up at me and said, “computer says no”.

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