Elf Harm

There I was, complaining about having nothing to do, and suddenly I’m in a whirlwind with muchos office work to do (still unexciting, but in a much larger quantity) plus carefully worded and brilliant emails to construct and send to fun non-work people. It’s good because the day has neutrally flown by but it’s bad because I have empathised with the nagging sense of abandonment that you, my Faithful, must have been experiencing.

Rest assured, you’ve missed very little. In fact, I was struggling to think of a topic until Laura thanked me for not yet mentioning the fact that she got her pants rolled up into her tights in the loo the other day and almost had to rip her way out of them. After a few minutes she was in a state of some panic and sent me back to her desk drawer to find her spare pair, but by the time I returned she’d managed to disentangle herself. This incident may sound remarkable to any male readers and, in fact, even I struggle to imagine how it happens – but happen it does. Laura is not the first victim. I think it’s the underwear equivalent of the Headphone Wire Elf, who, as we all know, lives in our bag or pocket and, the minute we put our iPod or Walkman away, out of sight, he emerges to weave the headphones into a complex and impregnable knot that takes at least 45 minutes to unpick. The elf’s motives are unknown but his existence is unquestionable. Perhaps there is a similar elf in Laura’s pants. On that bombshell, I’m going back to work.