Friday, May 11, 2007

A Case Of You 

"You can take your journey of self-discovery and stick it up your Myspace," yelled Creepy Keith from Accounts this lunchtime, mad as a librarian because Stella, my eighties style yuppie witch of a team leader, still refuses his invitations to love.
"Never. Going. To. Happen," she replied.
"I've got a 3-Series! What's wrong with you?"
"Fuck. The. Fuck. Off," she said, calmly escorting him out of the office.
Down the corridor, I could hear Neil, my former team leader, remonstrating with the broken vending machine.
There's been rioting all day up on the help desk - a first year spilled some older kid's Magners and it all kicked off - so he'd come looking for consolation in cake type things.
"Swallow, damn you!" came the frustrated cry as the machine repeatedly rejected his pound coin. "Don't spit it out. Swallow!"
I laid out some kitchen towel and blew on my soup.

Stella is thrilled because her friend Becky returns from China next week. Becky's been away for three months, working in the Beijing office of the Royal Bank of Chorley and understandably, they're looking forward to letting off some steam.

"Friday night we'll be down the allotments, with a blanket and a case of wine," she said. "Did I tell you I've got my own raspberry bush? Right next to my friend Becky's blackcurrants. It's so exciting!"
"Organic?" I asked.
"They're not ready yet, but yeah, they're going to be fantastic."

A flaming PC, quickly followed by a flaming keyboard and mouse, flew past my window and crashed to the ground.
"And what if it's raining? It's pissed it down this week."
"We'll do it in the tool shed instead, Tim," she said. "We're going to get so wasted."

Outside, Rex the security guard attended to the fire with a bucket of sand and Stella drifted away in a Scooby Doo wave of flashback.
For a couple of minutes it was just me and my soup.
The clock ticked. A distant water cooler glug glugged. In a faraway cupboard, an abandoned mobile played the theme from Neighbours.
"Jesus, there was wine all over everything everywhere," she eventually sighed.

I put down fresh supplies of kitchen towel and looked in my bag for a yoghurt.
"But if last time is anything to go by, we'll be spending most of the night face down in each other's bushes enjoying a tasty scoff. If it's not wet when we go down, it soon will be."

I found a petit fromage frais and finished off with a single Twix. Would that be a Unix?

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