The trouble I had actually picking up the takeaway could have landed in a police cell though for public indecency.
Abbeygate Street was still gated off as we drove to the noodle bar - so we had to hovver outside The Angel and I ran down to Zen (well, walked very fast...Smiling Assassin hasn't let me loose on running yet though I can sort of remember doing it once as a teenager).
Halfway there, I noticed the temperature had dropped markedly...as had my jeans. I'd thrown an old pair on before rushing out the door and not really taken notice of their size.
They were at half mast - I checked behind before dragging them up and making sure I was decent before entering a crowded restaurant. Once in, I noticed a stray fiver on the floor near the counter but daren't bend down to pick it up in case I embarrassed myself (and put the diners off their noodles as my noddle broke free. I mouthed to the waitress to grab the cash and she did - while I kept my hands firmly in my pockets for added support.
I made a hasty retreat and got home without further incident. The jeans are now waiting for one of those charity clothes bags and I'm eyeing up a nice new pair for the summer.
Expensive process, this weight loss.
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