Bookmarks

I had an arse puckering moment this morning, you know the one – a proper, “Your mum has just pressed eject on your dvd player and you’ve just realised that “Pussy Galore, return of the donkeys” is still in there from last night” type moment.

I have two bookmarks, one is the boarding stub for my flight back from Cape Town two years ago and the other was a rude photo of my (now ex) girlfriend of her in her underwear - which I couldn’t take to SA because I was staying with my Gran for a week. (I am the golden grandchild and such things just will not do)

After my return from SA, I used both for a while. The naughty photo was usually kept in a technical work-related-teach-yourself-at-home-cos-we-won’t-pay-for-it book just to spice it up and the boarding stub was in my night time reading book. (Although the technical one would always send me to sleep quicker)

At around the same time I moved out of the flat I shared with the ex, I misplaced the naughty bookmark. I moved out in some what of a hurry to say the least, so I wasn’t too surprised to have lost the rude photo. Needless to say, I wasn’t too bothered at losing it so it wasn’t an issue. My best guess is that I left it at the flat and she threw it away or it was in one of the many boxes I had scattered at various friend’s houses in Southampton. These boxes have remained unopened for over a year, but I unpacked the techie manual one the other day.

I only thought about the bookmark this morning. Then I tried to remember where I last saw it.

I remembered.

The last time I saw it, it was in a techie book I subsequently took into work and lent to a work colleague, the other day. *Toot*

She didn’t say anything yesterday. But she might not have opened it *toot* * toot*

But I would have noticed the bookmark before handing it over, right? RIGHT!?!