‘EMMMAAAAA' I heard the shriek from the comfort of my room. Afraid that someone was attacking one of my corridor mates, I raced down the corridor.
Standing beside him, I watched as he yanked around the inside of the broken washing machine. Grunting and grumbling he got to his feet and stared firstly at the washing machine and then at me. ‘It's broken' he pointed out, I suppressed the will to say ‘yes, that is why you are here'. I waited for him to continue, he returned to his handiwork.
Suddenly, there was a glimmer of hope in his eyes. He grinned at me ‘found it!' he spat ‘look'. I got down on my knees and looked into the machine. He extracted a small torch from his back pocket. As delicately, and with the same passion, as a heart surgeon tending to a very dear patient, he carefully pulled apart the rubber ring from the drum. Shining the light into the gap formed, he pointed at an obvious black lump. ‘There is your problem' his voice slightly muffled inside the machine.
With one finger he tugged on the lump and to my horror a pair of very delicate, sexy knickers appeared. He stood in front of me with the lingerie suspended suggestively from his forefinger.
In my baggie jeans and hoodie, I stared back at him. My brain froze for a moment, exactly the time it took to say the most inappropriate thing to a large grumpy repair man
‘Well, they're not mine, are they yours?'
I must check my life insurance.