baby, what's in that satchel?

it's 8.30am and someone's at the door a-knocking. really loudly. thinking that noelle's forgotten her key and her mobile's flat or something like that i dash down to open the door in my autocad pyjamas and wearing the blue bedroom socks that da bought from china.

but oh no! why is it a man in a suit and not my zoot? "oh! sorry, did i wake you?", he enquires. "no sir," quoth i, "i'm actually going to play the grand piano and then i'm going to fly an aeroplane". and so, feeling intensely embarrassed i had to converse with him for a little bit because he's from the unit behind us and his house is flooded and the plumber wanted to check if the leak was coming from our house etcetc.

thankfully i wasn't wearing my glasses so i have no idea what he looks like and so if i did see him again i wouldn't feel obliged to avert my eyes in shame, and he won't recognize me with my glasses on either. so if he's good-looking i don't have to suffer the horror of knowing i looked like somebody's rabid cousin they keep under the stairs in front of adonis himself.