When approaching a televised council meeting anxious to increase a one-vote majority, the last thing any councillor wants is to look like he’s been in a brawl that resulted in blood trickling down his large nose.
Particularly during an election year.
This explains why I was in such a a state of angst when I cut my nose changing our CDs a short time before that council meeting.
Now, I know, some will ask “what are CDs?” Others might wonder how you can possibly injure your nose changing them.
First off, you slide out the plastic thingy that holds the CDs (round things that contain music). Then, you get on your knees under said tray in search of favourite CDs. At this point you get an urgent cry for help from the kitchen, jump up and ram the bridge of your nose into the vicious tray.
Which explained the two-centimetre slit stubbornly oozing blood that created this council cover-up.
Left to my male devices as I prepared for the council meeting, I had a brainwave. I remembered the skin-coloured goop my wife occasionally slaps on to hide minor blemishes — very infrequent blemishes I would hastily add.
Needless to say she was at work when I went into her oversized section of the bathroom cabinet and grabbed the little suade-coloured bottle.
Even though I thought it smelled a little strange as I spread it on top of a blob of antiseptic cream, the liquid — dabbed on with a tiny brush — successfully concealed the cut. Abandoning the bottle beside the washbasin, I headed off for council.
I’m not making this up.
I was delighted that even though my nose felt a tad crispy and, for some reason, my glasses were difficult to remove, there was no oozing blood for cameras to record as the meeting progressed.
Yours truly was preoccupied with extremely dignified consideration of most important municipal matters when my Blackberry vibrated and delivered an urgent message from home.
“You didn’t put nail polish on your nose, did you?” asked my incredulous wife.