Here's a Thing

While waiting at Moorgate station for an eastbound circle line tube the other day, I found myself reflecting on the magical distortions of time underground. One street level minute will take sixty, recognisably long, seconds. But take the short trip to beneath your feet and, as all Londoners will tell you, things cease to be so simple. A London Underground minute is worth anything up to four or five normal ones.

Which got me to thinking about the term "cotton-pickin'". You are most likely to hear it in the term "Now wait just one cotton-pickin' minute..." The sentence would seem to require an adjective that emphasises the shortness of the minute in question - it is 'just' the one, not worth refusing the request to wait. But of all the professions that make the time whizz by, I would have thought cotton picking is rather low on the list.

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Moorgate, time