Every true story contains a wee lie.
Can you tell what's untrue?
There is no greater delight than to be conscious of sincerity on self-examination
--Mencius
I should have known right from the first day at the conference that my own star billing was jinxed.
On the first morning I had got stuck in traffic, so by the time I arrived flustered at the venue, the conference was already starting and everyone else was already seated in the lecture theatre.Someone handed me a name-badge, and to avoid missing too much of the first presentation I tried to pin the badge to my chest at the same time as I raced to the toilet for a leak.
Standing at the urinal - hurry! hurry! - I wrestled the badge one-handed to pin it to my shirt, but after a few attempts it still wasn't straight.
So I had a brainwave - hurry! hurry! - waddle over to the mirror, adjust the name-badge, then finish my pee.
Which is why the guy who came in the gents at that moment took one look at me apparently admiring my willy in the mirror, turned and went back out.
If he was one of the conference organisers, that would explain why my own paper was then mysteriously "dropped" from the programme.
The lie is that the photo isn't of me. I found it through Google Images.
If you missed previous HNTs, you can access all the old half baked thursday posts here.
