Last night DOB and I went to a young lawyer's event. It happened to be at a restaurant in the same building where one of the attorneys I work for is. We arrived about 5:45 and DOB started to put his shoes on (he never drives with them on) only to have one of the strings break. Only it didn't break clean--the outer part bunched up and left the tough inner core. He could neither tie his shoes nor pull the lace out to replace with a new one.
Both of us rifled our stuff, but we had nothing sharper than a key, and keys weren't doing it.
Finally I had an idea--I could run upstairs to the attorney's office and borrow scissors. When I got upstairs, the door was locked, but I have a key. So I let myself in. The receptionist had gone, but the legal assistant and the attorney were both in their offices, both on the phone. The legal assistant's desk faced the front desk, so she watched me as I waved, rifled through the receptionist's desk for scissors, and then left.
The shoe string cut, I let myself back in upstairs, where everyone was still on the phone. I put the scissors back and walked out.
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