Pretty in Stink
I’ve been rushed off my feet for the past few days and this call centre diary has suffered as a result. I don’t know how Tony Benn managed to keep it up for so long (a big puff on the end of his pipe seems to do the trick, so I have heard.) I have much catching up to do; it’s been an eventful week in The Call Centre.
First things first, a familiar pong returned to The Call Centre today. The warm smell of brussel sprouts decaying in a warm armpit. The Smell, Mike ‘The Manic Miner’ Clark, came back off his holiday.
My cowardice has created a monster.
Taking advice from readers of this blog, I tackled the issue of Mike’s stench in a round a bout way, suggesting that he had a secret admirer. Since his return from holiday he has been like a new man: his hair is cut short and slicked back, his nostril hair is trim and stale Brut 33 mingles with the smell of sprouts.
He has taken to talking to women in the office like a gigolo, “How YOU doin’.”
He thinks he is Joey from friends. He’s more like Joey Deacon.
I need to go back to the drawing board.