Just got back from the gym. (I find it hilarious that I can start a blog post with this line, but it's the truth).
Anyway, I just got back from the gym. For some reason, by the time I get there all of the good lockers are usually gone and most evenings I end up with one on the bottom. I hate the bottom lockers.
The bottom lockers mean that you have to really fanny around to get to your stuff and it's hard to change in front of the locker - I always end up emptying the thing and de-camping to a bench elsewhere in the changing room.
Anyway, the thing is this evening I was doing just such fannying around - trying to get my locker organised so that my towel was on the top ready for when I need it. To do this, I had to kneel on one knee. So there I am, kneeling down in front of the locker block and I hear a jingling in my ear.
I hate it when people can't say 'excuse me' or 'excusez-moi' and instead they cough or shuffle or jangle their keys. Anyway, thinking it was an impatient upper-locker owner, I turned my head to say, shirtily, 'I'll be two minutes' and got quite a surprise.
It wasn't a set of keys that was jingling in my ear. It was actually a rather heavily and decorously pierced scrotum.
Now, I'm not one to do too much looking in the locker room (ok, well maybe a little bit) but this bling-bling ballbag caught me off guard.
I looked up to see to whom it belonged. It turned out to be attached to a rather fetching, dark-haired, tattooed young man.
"Excuse me", he said in french "I didn't mean to pressure you - I just want to get my towel".
"No worries", said I, trying to be cool. "I just thought you were jangling your keys in my ear".
"I get that a lot" he said, winking.
I bet he does, too.