The Joy Of Socks (Andrew)

Once a week I run at lunchtime from our office in Larbert. I usually prepare my bag the night before so I have my kit, my towel, a change of clothes and my trainers. I was a Boy Scout. Be prepared!

Except, I wasn’t a very good Boy Scout, and a couple of weeks back I forgot the most important item of all. Not my towel, there’s always ways to dry off even if you forget a towel, including but not limited to a roll of toilet paper, which we shall never speak about.

No, the worst item you can forget is a fresh pair of socks. Once you’ve been running you don’t want to wear your socks again. They need to be banished into the darkest deepest parts of your bag so that the smell is smothered until you fish them out later with a pair of tongs to throw them in the washing machine.

But if you have no socks, what do you do? Nothing. You can’t wear loo roll on your feet. Nor can colour in your ankles with a black marker and pretend you’ve actually got socks on.

Instead, you have no choice but to dress like an 18 year old trying to get into a nightclub, ankles flashing on too short trousers.

I had to spend the rest of my day making sure not to leave my desk so that no one could accuse me, a 44 year old man, of being some kind of Hoxton Hipster from 2015.

“Is that your ankles I can see?” Someone would ask.

And I have to explain that I work in social media marketing and as a part time barista and that this was a uniform, not a choice.

So, from now on, to avoid this happening again I now have a pair of emergency socks in my bag. That way if I ever forget to bring a pair I can break out the emergency socks so that I can walk freely again without showing off my ankles.

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