Did I find the chairs comfortable she asked? Yes, I said. But quickly adding I probably wasn’t the best person to ask. Explaining I spent much of my time perched on a leather saddle. After which razor blades had a certain appeal.
I’d stopped at a small cafe. Eager for some respite for my posterior. Ordinarily the saddle is pretty bearable. Invariably aware of its presence of course. But beginning to think I’d soon have to add "Imprint of leather saddle" to the Official Observations page of my passport. Quicker than dental records to identify me in case of my demise.
But the saddle had become a little more challenging of late. Eye-watering. For which, fortunately, I’d a little tube of ointment….
