Bit 1.1
"Heads up."
It was like being hit by a small van. And then, as if that wasn't enough, it was like being shunted by a 4x4. Some people may like being in the thick of it. I on the other hand, was never cut out for rugby.
Still, at least this time, I came out of it with all my limbs intact. Possibly fewer brain cells though. But then, some may argue, I don't need them anyway.
"OK, time to head back."
Rob ran up to me grinning. Lunch-time rugby was his idea, the mad crazy fool. He said that "everyone does football, it's so passé." Yes, everyone does football because you're less likely to get beaten into a pulp by some vindictive sod in accounts in the name of sport.
On a beautiful summer's day like today, there's something inherently wrong about returning to work in a soulless office that's more like a battery farm than a hotbed of journalism. And especially during August when, as everyone knows, it's "silly season" for the press.
I shouldn't complain though, really. I made a tidy sum on the sly thanks to some strictly off-the-record deals last week about which phrases we could manage to get in. I was rather proud at my "polar bear insurgency" quote. Alright, it was in the TV Listings, and you know you can get ANYTHING published in there, but still - I got it in, I got the cash, and more importantly, I got smug points for the week.
"Oi, cloth ears!". A ringing slap round my head.
"Christ, that hurt, you git! What do you want?"
"I was asking" said Rob, in a tone of faux-indignation, "whether you wanted owt from the canteen?"
I declined with as much faux-politeness as I could muster. I don't hugely want to end up as a fat bloater like Rob. No, I'm being uncharitable. A moderately fat bloater like Rob.
I slumped back at my desk and checked what I had on for the week. Bugger all in short. Interviews for a temp to replace Handysides this afternoon, and that's about it.
I can't exactly say I'm disappointed that Handysides is gone. There's something disconcerting about having the former Head of Section as one of your underlings. You just got the feeling he was constantly thinking he could do a far better job. And he probably could have done had he decided to sober up for at least one day a week. Got to make sure the temp smells better than he did.
It was like being hit by a small van. And then, as if that wasn't enough, it was like being shunted by a 4x4. Some people may like being in the thick of it. I on the other hand, was never cut out for rugby.
Still, at least this time, I came out of it with all my limbs intact. Possibly fewer brain cells though. But then, some may argue, I don't need them anyway.
"OK, time to head back."
Rob ran up to me grinning. Lunch-time rugby was his idea, the mad crazy fool. He said that "everyone does football, it's so passé." Yes, everyone does football because you're less likely to get beaten into a pulp by some vindictive sod in accounts in the name of sport.
On a beautiful summer's day like today, there's something inherently wrong about returning to work in a soulless office that's more like a battery farm than a hotbed of journalism. And especially during August when, as everyone knows, it's "silly season" for the press.
I shouldn't complain though, really. I made a tidy sum on the sly thanks to some strictly off-the-record deals last week about which phrases we could manage to get in. I was rather proud at my "polar bear insurgency" quote. Alright, it was in the TV Listings, and you know you can get ANYTHING published in there, but still - I got it in, I got the cash, and more importantly, I got smug points for the week.
"Oi, cloth ears!". A ringing slap round my head.
"Christ, that hurt, you git! What do you want?"
"I was asking" said Rob, in a tone of faux-indignation, "whether you wanted owt from the canteen?"
I declined with as much faux-politeness as I could muster. I don't hugely want to end up as a fat bloater like Rob. No, I'm being uncharitable. A moderately fat bloater like Rob.
I slumped back at my desk and checked what I had on for the week. Bugger all in short. Interviews for a temp to replace Handysides this afternoon, and that's about it.
I can't exactly say I'm disappointed that Handysides is gone. There's something disconcerting about having the former Head of Section as one of your underlings. You just got the feeling he was constantly thinking he could do a far better job. And he probably could have done had he decided to sober up for at least one day a week. Got to make sure the temp smells better than he did.
posted by U-B | 3:23 pm
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