Tuesday 15 January 2008

Jack


He came over to me, conspiratorially, with an umbrella tucked under his arm. There was no-one else around - to speak of - but he was acting cautious, just in case. As it happened, I was updating my Outlook contacts and checking I hadn't missed transferring any to the new mobile, etc., scanning the Outlook contacts page, two mobiles and a printed sheet I have propped up agin the workstation divider. These modern working practices don't seem to lend themselves to personalisation, so the list of phone numbers is all that there is to decorate the dark blue divider. Me, I'm just glad to have my back to the wall. Could come in very handy.

"I'm sorry if I was harsh on the boy earlier," he said. Harshness in an office is not really harshness, but it's all about context after all. Harshness in my neck of the woods is a shiv in the back cos you ain't produced your drug money, but in SW1 it means something else. Jack (for that is what he shall be named) had been harsh on the boy for his delay in setting up a Business Centre on the ground floor, and his harshness had manifested itself in a slightly raised tone of voice. Ooh, I'm scared...

But, in a strange way, I was scared.

Jack leaned in closer, raising a non-existent eyebrow as he spoke:

"It's just... with the service delivery... (he pauses a good deal when he speaks, and I couldn't help thinking about his personal life. Does he go home and pause when he talks to his wife? Does he castigate his kids for 'failing to deliver on their GCSEs' or some shit?)... From this... area... Well, you either get things done or you don't get things done... Sometimes they need to be managed with a foot to the throat... Good luck."

He walked out into the rain.

A foot to the throat, eh? I'll remember that.

18 comments:

Anonymous said...

Sir,

I trust that this fine fellow's surname is Boot?

Sincerely,

J. Slipper.

Anonymous said...

How did you guess?

Anonymous said...

Oh hey, curfew on the funk!

Arnold Loafer.

Anonymous said...

Right on, brother!

Anonymous said...

I admire all this.

Best Wishes,

Billy Brothelcreeper.

Anonymous said...

I need to pop down the chemist to sort out me blisters

Anonymous said...

I would prefer it if people met on the same level.

Anonymous said...

Do Shoes have souls?

Anonymous said...

Has anyone seen Spike's sandal?

Anonymous said...

Damn you man! What's with all the damn'd French?

Anonymous said...

Excuse me all, but you'd sure save on leather if you'd just take the A-train!

Anonymous said...

Check out mine, as worn by murderers everywhere.

Anonymous said...

No, Bitch! Check out mine, as worn by insecure clothes-horses everywhere (in Manhattan, Sloane Square and Kuala Lumpur.)

Anonymous said...

Hey T.C !

Anonymous said...

When investigating sites of occult interest, it pays to wear a stout pair of walking shoes.

Anonymous said...

Doctor! Leela is barefoot!

Anonymous said...

Different strokes, for different folks, and so on and so on and shoo-be doo-be doo

Anonymous said...

Thuffering thuccatash! She's about as helpless as a porcupine in a nudist colony