Tooled Up

Tonight my washing machine was disconnected.  I really am living like a hobo now.  Except for being indoors.  I was reminded, somewhat unsurprisingly, of having a washing machine connected twenty-five years ago.  Then, I was young.  I was mainly scared.  My faultlessly clean and smoky neighbour Doreen said that I should always wear a wedding ring when workman came in, to stop them getting ideas.  Or acting upon them at least.

I hadn't thought about this but it was one more thing to be scared of.  So when the man came to plumb me in (stop it) I wore a gold ring on my left hand.  It made me feel very awkward.  Clearly it worked though as I remained unmolested through the whole procedure.

I'm a little less scared these days.  While the indeterminately East European plumber grunted about under my worksurface (oh stop it) I unscrewed a mirror from the wall.  It did cross my mind that he might get ideas, even though I am wearing track suit bottoms, but then I thought "Would you really try it on with a woman who was wielding one of her big splendid stolen screwdrivers?"

Fuck wedding rings, you just need superior tools.  (OK you can raise your eyebrows now).