I am velcro

I was reading my journal from the year before last.

There was an episode I’d entirely forgotten and I felt very embarrassed at the time. But when I read it over again, it all suddenly made sense. Or more sense that it did at the time. Which isn’t hard. But I felt suddenly that I could write a thesis on three words drunkenly spoke.

“I am Velcro.”

That moment has passed, and now it doesn’t make sense again. Perhaps, if I write the circumstances again, it will, again, make sense. I’ll give it a go.

It was a party. An “End of Committee Meetings Party”

We’d not been at the last meeting, we’d been elsewhere drinking wine. And then we’d come to the party. And drunk the party wine. And when that had run out, we’d opened another bottle. It was time to go home. I started swinging my 14 layers around my shoulders, when someone very important asked me a question.

“So, Anna, what are you doing when you finish here?” she said, in a terribly sober way.

“Helen!” I said. It seemed a time for dramatic pronouncements. I don’t actually know if her name was Helen.

“Well, Julie, the thing is…” I said. Searching desperately for the next part of the sentence.

“Barbara,” I have no idea what her name was. I just know she was Very Important.


And by now six people were looking at me, waiting for me to make this grand announcement. I, of course, had no idea what about to come out of my mouth.

“I am Velcro!” I said. Looking at the twelve people now staring at me intently.

Unfortunately, I obviously felt that this statement deserved explanation.

“I am the fluffy… no, I am the hooky bit of velcro. I am like the hooky bit of velcro, flying around the world. Just trying to find my ‘fluff’.”

And, after agonising moments of silence and staring, someone else admitted that she knew exactly what I meant. And everyone stared at her instead.

Which gave me a chance to run out of the room.

But the thing is. I think I may know what I meant now too. But I’m not sure I could explain it. Does it need explaining?