Appetite for Distraction
After having a few days off I have come back to a full mailbox. It’s full of the usual rubbish – stuff that was relevant three days ago but completely useless now: “The timesheet system will be down for 30 minutes on Wednesday.”
Call Centre Tony has been trying to impress Brenda for the last few weeks, but he has started to crack, and press the self-destruct button.
He has been round for most of the day, trying to get me involved in his latest scheme: “Dodgy subscriptions to Red Hot television.” He said it through the side of his mouth like he is dealing with someone down the pub.
“Fifty quid Johnny (Cash)” He winked. “The next night you can the purest filth this side of me old Dutch.” He looked very pleased with himself.
Brian, The Hills have Eyes, has been a surprising punter. Unfortunately he has been talking quite openly about it on the team. He talks of Ben Dover and Anal Nights in the same way that someone might say, “did you see that documentary on sharks on the Discovery Channel last night.”
Valuing Dignity policy, my arse.
I have received a message from Amber, the subject is “News Alert, Your Job Sucks,” Robert G. Allen can make me $24,000 in 24 hours. Last week Amber said that my penis could grow two inches. Thank goodness Amber is giving me some hope.