The Sad Tale Of A Shrinking Man. Turn It Up Mate!

Me in a smart suit. Standing on steps to reflect my true height.

I am not now, nor have I ever been, the most sartorially elegant of men. Occasionally I make the effort to dress well. Very occasionally. I do it for myself you know, certainly not to impress anyone else. Truth to tell, it is difficult for a man of my stature to look elegant. Yes, being only five foot nine inches is a definite drawback to my attempts at looking stylish. Oh, I have just realised that I said five foot nine, some of you might dispute that height, so I am willing to admit to five foot eight. Well really, I don't know what is happening here. I seem to be having an attack of honesty, and I can't shake it off. In which case I shall tell you my true height: five foot seven and a quarter. But I promise you that there was once a time, not so very long ago when I was taller. The ageing process and the weight of the worlds problem on my shoulders have combined to compress me. Yes indeed, I am in fact a six footer. It is just that I have short legs for my height!
One of the sad and utterly tragic consequences of this height loss - I am sticking to this story - is that I have to shorten the legs of my trousers. Sometimes, with a bit of luck I manage to find a woman who can sew, and I am pleased to grant this lucky woman the task of taking my trousers up. Women are good at sewing you know, I think it is bred into them. The same goes for cooking, ironing, washing, and other menial household tasks. Naturally men have the ability to do these things as well. However, because we men have such a caring and nurturing disposition we are reluctant to deprive the ladies of these mundane tasks, they so enjoy doing. Sweeping, dusting, and polishing, are also things that women particularly enjoy.
Now then, where was I? Oh yes, turn ups. If it is just a pair of jeans that are to long, I tend to turn them up just by folding the ends over.
Last night though, as I was leaving the stage, after wowing the audience at an open mic night, I was accosted by a man, who proceeded to harangue me about my dress sense. He was particularly incensed by the way that I had turned my jeans up. Apparently it is wrong to turn them up on the outside. He suggested that in future I might not look so unkempt if I turned them up on the inside.
Well, as you can imagine, I was amazed by his brass necked cheek, and told him, in my best, olde worlde Anglo Saxon language, just what he could do with his suggestion.
To give him his due, he was more than likely, upset by the way that the women in the audience, had stormed the stage while I was singing. Jealous of my charismatic appeal you see.
Besides which I thought that I looked quite good in my new jeans, which incidentally, were extremely expensive. Not to me though, I only paid a couple of quid for them in the charity shop. But before that, someone had paid a lot of money for them. Someone with more money than sense if you ask me.
Anyway, after a restless night thinking about whether he was right, I have come to the conclusion that I shall continue to turn my jeans up on the outside. In fact, the next time I see that man I shall make a point of turning them over twice. See how he likes that!
That's it for now then. Lovely to speak to you again. I shall of course look forward to your comments on this little article. I have been quite careful not to say anything which might be controversial or upsetting to anyone, particularly the ladies. Bye for now.