O happy day! They that were lost are found!
Regular readers will know that I swim at the Arlington Baths Club. It is a wonderful and highly particular Glasgow institution.
It works like this: I go in to swim, give my baths number to the attendant who hands me commodious bath sheet and towel, I pick up my trunks which are hanging on my own numbered peg and go off to the slipper room to pick up the Flip Flops of Glory and make my way to the changing room, with its big armchairs and newspapers. After the swimming, the trunks get flung into one of the many washing bins and are laundered by the elves in the basement so that the whole procedure can begin again afresh on the morrow.
There was real trauma last week. I went in. I gave my number to the attendant who handed over commodious bath sheet and towel and I turned to my own numbered peg and saw nothing there.
My peg was denuded.
My peg was bare.
The days in between then and last night have been filled with speculation as to why my own skimpy black swimming trunks should have been removed by a nefarious person for their own ends whilst everyone else’s seemed to be present and correct.
However, diligence and a short prayer have resolved the matter. It turned out last night that this was simply a case of the trunks being hung on The Wrong Peg.
Joy is restored. Rapture abounds.
Well, Kelvin, you seem to have rendered everyone speechless.
It must be the thought of that bare peg.
Since the Gospel for this coming Sunday has to do with lost sheep and lost coins, should we update it with the parable of the lost trunks?
I’m still wonderin’ how you got by without the swimmin’ – or did you streak up an’ down the pool so fast no-one noticed ?
Does this blog fall into the ‘A Fitting End’ category ?