It was hot today when I set off to play tennis so I reluctantly got my shorts out. They are not at the height of fashion as I bought them 35 years ago, and they certainly can't compete with the teeny weeny skirts that the French wear, but needs must and at my age there is no point in being vain. Even so my legs have seen better days and one leg has developed wonderful veins since my knee replacement in 2004. I consoled myself with the fact that no-one would notice my legs, being too busy playing tennis.
We were an international foursome, a Suede, an American, a Frenchman and myself. In addition, the American had brought with her a friend from California, a tennis debutante who was watching us play. At the change over the American player remarked to her friend how fast I could cover the court, especially as I had an artificial knee. I should have been pleased by the compliment but instead I stood in my shorts while Swedish, French and Americans all stared at my ugly legs.
We were an international foursome, a Suede, an American, a Frenchman and myself. In addition, the American had brought with her a friend from California, a tennis debutante who was watching us play. At the change over the American player remarked to her friend how fast I could cover the court, especially as I had an artificial knee. I should have been pleased by the compliment but instead I stood in my shorts while Swedish, French and Americans all stared at my ugly legs.
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