Wimbledon Fever

I guess the Tennis went to his head. Poor chap. One of those mornings eh?
You know, down to the David lloyd centre to see Timothy for an early riser session of squash. You invested in a headband because your girlfriend said that Nadal was sexier than Federer. You wanted a piece of that sex appeal for yourself. You wanted 'sex' to echo out loud and clear as you swung your fist full of carbon fibre in the direction of the shuttlecock. You wanted to look pro, but because you never wore a headband before, you forgot it was there, and here you are, Mr. Mitigation himself, on the way into that crucial client briefing without a single clue that you are single handedly breaking down style boundaries like no one before. Amazing.