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Treachery

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July 28, 2019

See these pegs. They’ve been arranged from left to right according to age and, as it happens, functionality and durability.

Peg 1, far left, is somewhere between 25 and 30 years old. It’s Japanese and has travelled with me and my belongings from Tokyo to France, the UK and now to Australia. It still works beautifully. A miracle of Japanese technology and quality polymers. If this peg was a person, it would never lie, shoplift or drive drunk.

Peg 2 is French. I bought a bag of them at Monoprix, an upmarket supermarket, some 15 to 20 years ago when I was living in Paris. Again, this is a reliable and well-made peg. Sturdy with a very forceful clip. It’s the sort of peg I might have used as a child to pinch the arm of one of my siblings. Ideal for bruising soft flesh but remarkably kind to fabric.

Peg 3, that mint-coloured weakling, was purchased a year ago here in Sydney. It’s got a crappy metal hinge and is made of appallingly brittle plastic. Pinch this bastard by the tail-ends and it will snap. The only way to use it is to pinch close to the hinge and say a little prayer.

Peg 4 is about four months old, bought here in Sydney at Aldi. It looks stylish with its flashy two-tone design and its ergonomic finger grips. But it’s an utter bastard of a peg, a fur coat and no knickers peg. A prick of the highest order peg. Pinch its tails and its hinge will twist sideways. If this happens while you’re pegging out your dainties, the hinge will expel its plastic parts and the brutal spikes of the coiled metal hinge will penetrate the fabric. I hate this peg. I would slap its face and call it a liar if it was a person.

Today, I threw all of these treacherous Peg 4 arseholes in the recycling bin and replaced them with Peg 5. According to the small print on the bag, Peg 5 is heavy duty. The jury is out.

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