Preparing for a job interview some years ago, I decided to zhuzzh up my image with a new tie, choosing the floral number pictured above.
The dark suit and plain shirt would say 'responsible, mature and reliable'.
But the tie would complement that impression with 'creative, original, daring'.
For all the good this ploy did me, I might as well have turned up for interview in my pajamas.
Hey ho.
After my toe-twistingly embarrassing performance in front of the panel, I mooched head-down and defeated into the nearby city centre in search of tea, cake and solace.
A young woman, in the shabby trappings of a street person, approached me.
'Spare a few pence, guv?'
I blanked her, lowered my chin and plodded on.
Hearing her draw breath, I quickened my pace, certain of the inevitable low-level insult that was coming my way.
But in her small, hoarse voice, she said: 'Groovy tie....'
Yes, I turned back - and slipped a pound coin into her hand.
But I reckon she gave more.
And she gave first.
