On my knees and not a church in sight

ELEANOR GOGGIN

I’VE had a chequered life and career. From starting off doing dentistry and managing to fail every exam abysmally to a lengthy time in banking. I can’t use the word career with regard to the bank because let’s face it, it wasn’t. And then some time in fundraising, a brief foray into tour guiding, a spot of market research and a small bit of secretarial work. Basically anything that came my way. But I never thought I would see myself on my knees eyeballing a series of 17-year-old crotches.

A friend of mine supplies uniforms to colleges and knowing that I am now idle asked me to give her a hand for her frantic back to college work. She failed to mention measuring inside legs. Now I come from the era where ‘down there’ was a very private thing. Any items in the pharmacy relating to ‘down there’ were passed very surreptitiously by the assistant in treblewrap brown paper bags and no words pertaining to them were spoken. ‘Down there’ was basically taboo except in certain circumstances. Obvious. So, when I embarked on my first day, rather than allow my digits to get too close to the danger area I started measuring from half way down their thighs. And even at that I was in a weakness. The worry that most of them may be walking around in pants that are woefully at half mast is very real. I have visions of them all resembling Confirmation boys from long ago with the shorts below the knee. And then because of all the bending my knee gave out and started to swell and throb and every time I knelt down I got a wobble and fell towards their crotch area and on a few occasions headbutted their doodas.

It was not a pretty picture. An old wan on her knees rocking back and forth. Their initiation into college will last with them for a very long time.