We’re off to a conference. How many shirts are you taking?, asks W. 4, I tell him. 4! He says he’ll only take 2. He doesn’t sweat as much as me, he says. You sweat a lot, don’t you fat boy? How many pairs of pants are you taking? 4, I tell him. 4 pairs of pants, W. muses. He’ll take 4 as well, he decides, and 4 pairs of socks. How many pairs of trousers will you take?, asks W. 1, I tell him. 1!, W. says, after all your accidents? Have you learnt nothing? W.’s going to take 2 pairs of trousers, he says, just in case.
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