Today I stood in some chewing gum.
I had been in town trying to find my way from Trafalgar Square to Picadilly Circus, when I saw New Zealand House - our High Commission to the UK. It was a pretty plain building actually, and a little disappointing as far as High Commissions and Embassies go. It was massive, sure - taking up many stories and much room on the corner of Pall Mall a street that isn't on the Monopoly board.
It was a windy day, so I used NZ House to shelter from the wind while I pulled out my map to figure out where to go.
That's when it happened.
As I turned towards where I believed town to be, I noticed that my left foot was stuck to the footpath. Lifting it up I realised that I had stepped in a blob of fresh pink chewing gum. Sure, it could have been worse, but I suddenly became very self-conscious of the people who had noticed my predicament - some with looks of pity, some with looks of delight, and one guy who took the opportunity to hit me with his shoulder as he walked past.
So I left NZ House doing the chewing gum dance. Step step (scrape) step (scrape scrape) step (scrape) step step step (scrape) and so on until I got to the tube station.
Once I got to the tube, I noticed that I had one of those adult porn fliers that you find in phone boxes stuck to the bottom of my shoe, and that I was surrounded by old ladies who would do nothing but judge me with their eyes. So I nonchalantly removed the flier, and calmly stuck it to the wall behind me, using the residual gum to stick.
Probably not my finest hour, but if I'm going to be judged by a panel of old ladies, I might as well earn it.
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