Following possibly the most unimaginative title in the history of Memoirs Of A Fire Hazard comes this routine but thankfully short trundle through the madness that is my daily life. For the over sensitive, every effort will be made not to mention the name of the organisation which employs me and which recently cleared third world debt.
First of all let me relay to you that I have again managed to display my other-worldly talent for needlessly embarrassing myself. This morning I was talking with a couple of colleagues while in the process of passing over a form or something equally mundane. As I made my way back over to my own desk one of them whispered a polite ‘see you later’. Nothing unusual about that. We work on different sides of the office so we don’t see a lot of each other. We actually might aswell be in different rooms. Yet this does not justify the way in which I then proceeded to bellow;
‘SEE YA’ ……………
AT THE TOP OF MY VOICE AS IF SHE WAS SAT ACROSS THE STREET AT THE END OF THE ROAD ON AN ESPECIALLY WINDY DAY.
Excruciating. Again, it’s always a female.
Later on I had just finished another piece of work and was carrying out the equally mundane and in fact suspiciously similar task of passing the form to a staff member at the other side of the office. She wasn’t there so I just left it on her desk. Lucky for her, lest I scream some inappropriately loud greeting or goodbye at her. Some hours later I was informed by someone else that this staff member is in fact no longer with us. I don’t mean she’s passed away. As far as I know they haven't started killing people yet. I just mean she has moved to another site. Taken seemingly in the night like in some bizarre kidnapping. No email, no collection that I know of. Nothing. How does this happen without my knowing? Am I so oafishly unaware of what is going on around me? Everyone else in my team knew that this had happened but that is possibly because they spend large parts of their day huddled over their computers whispering darkly while I remain soundlessly bricked up behind my screens. Rendered deaf to the banter by the security measures which are no doubt in place to stop me spreading Spina Bifida here, there and everywhere. To be honest, that is not always a bad thing.
And then I went to the toilet. Except I couldn’t get in. I waited a few minutes as I always do when someone who I suspect is not disabled is occupying the disabled toilet. If you are going to make me wait then be advised that I will shame you. She emerged just in time to stop me pissing in my pants and she was all apologies and so forth. Apparently she didn’t know. Didn’t know what? That she was in a disabled toilet? That she was not disabled? That I am disabled? It’s unclear. What is clear is that if I didn’t need my job so much then many of her necessary administrative documents which reside within our department might find themselves being posted to Portugal. But I do need my job and so her documents won’t make it any further away than a shelf in the corner of the room. And then at some point, unless someone mercifully beats me to it, I’ll have to help her out with said administrative needs while all the while seething quietly as I remember that she is the kind of person who craps in a disabled toilet and makes me wait my turn.
At least I didn’t fart today. Well, not loudly anyway.