Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Damn you belly

I as a rule do not wear ties. In today's modern public service we don't have to. As long as we're neatly presented, it's okay.

However... certain occasions demand it. Job interviews and functions.

So I have three ties at work in my cupboard, just in case.

Today I had to attend a function. This not only meant a tie ... but a pants tuck. As in into my pants.

I am a heavy-set man and dislike tucking in my shirt. It, along with the tie, reminds me of the fucked in the head private school I was sent to on the grounds that I was mildly different.

So tucked in I was, and tie clad I became. Off we went to the function.

Only ... on the way there I stopped off at the lav.

Now because I generally am untucked my shirt typically falls past where my junk snugly resides behind the wall of my pants. But my pants this day were thin - even if black - and post ablution I was worried I was suffering front spotage - a tiny dot of seep through from penis head to undies to pants.

But ... how would I know? How could I when my large stomach was in the way?

Ah, I thought in a light bulb moment. I have a camera with a phone. While in the lift on the way down I took out the phone and surreptitiously attempted to shoot photos of my crotch.

Alas the results were ... inconclusive. I couldn't tell given the dark pants and the small size of my phone screen.

It was later in the car that I realised that I didn't know whether or not the lift itself had a camera...

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