Wednesday, August 06, 2014

We Don’t Require Your Services Any Longer

I had my “magic drink” this morning. Metamucil, olive leaf extract, apple cider vinegar and a fish oil tablet. Why the hell not! I’ve put on 4 kilos since I gave up smoking a few weeks ago. I didn’t think anything could hurt at this point.

I left early, it is my second last day, after all. I wanted to get there at least on time, if not earlier. You know, put in some effort, best foot forward, so to speak.

I am still fascinated by Mick Jagger’s Goddess in the doorway, listening to it on the way to work, again.

I got there at 8.24. Voula was there, and of course so was Giselle, she would be. I can see it in her eyes, she’s a killer. You know, efficient to the fact that her self-worth depends on it.

Voula said good morning, Giselle didn’t, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from her screen long enough to say hello to the guy on his way out. Yesterday’s guy.

I need to sell myself better, I thought. Instead of Mr Laid back, I need to be more like Mr Efficient.

I got coffee.

I took a shit.

I went out just before 9am and had another cigarette, so much for putting my best foot forward. There was a girl out there with all her possessions spread out across the concrete with a rollie cigarette in her hand. A guy got out of a taxi and immediately asked her for some tobacco to roll a cigarette. Nerd. Conservative. Quietly spoken. Serious. Shy. (possibly the type to take a gun down the mall) She didn’t have any, but she offered to share her cigarette with him.

“You see, I deliberately didn’t bring my tobacco with me, so I wouldn’t smoke,” he said.

“It’s worked,” I offered.

“Pardon,” he said.

“It has worked well.” The first thing you did when you got to work was ask someone for a cigarette, buddy.

“Oh, yeah,” he said. (You’ll be the first I will squeeze the trigger on) I’ve got to be more careful with my humour, a lot of people don’t find funny what I find funny, I know that. He hesitated with what I’d said, slight change to the mouth in recognition, kind of a sneer and then he looked back at the girl.



The tray of pink iced buns arrived halfway through the morning. Tell me why I am leaving this job, again?


I’ve been pushed into the next partition now that Giselle has arrived. Pushed out, just like that. Actually, it isn’t bad at all, despite facing the door, nobody is checking on me and I have been writing my journal all morning. Lovely.

Maybe, I am slow, or just last week’s employee, or maybe Voula did tell me, but I suspect that Giselle has worked here previously.


Voula said she wanted a boy to work with, not a girl, when she was telling Christopher, the HR guy, but as soon as she and Giselle got together they seemed to turn into girlfriends.

They disappear off to lunch together without a word.

I want Giselle to fail, sure I do.



It’s 2.11 and I have done everything, such as it is. The filing is up to date. Voula and Giselle are checking the rest of the payrolls. Do you think I could do nothing from here to 4.30? It is possible.

Oh, I am bored. The last days are always difficult.



3.08. And the afternoon drags on, and all of the filing is done, even the extra amount Giselle handed me when I had, actually, finished, once they had finished the other payrolls. Shrug. Coy look. Glint. Shrug. Smile. As if to say she was sorry. My arse you are sorry, just thanking the universe that it isn’t your job this week. It will be soon enough.

OMG one hour and twenty minutes to go. It is so slow.

3.24. I’m going for another cigarette, I don’t care.



Giselle left at 4.20. Let’s face it, I didn’t have much to do for the afternoon. I don’t know what I am going to do tomorrow? So, I went and handed the keys to Voula and said I’d see her tomorrow. Voula doesn’t care, she said sure. So, I left at 4.20 something. I was on the freeway at 4.25 and halfway home by 4.30. Lovely.


At home, sometime around 6pm, Jack called to say that Christopher had just emailed him to say that they won’t need me tomorrow. Oh? Oh well, it was hardly surprising. Okay. That’s that then. I’ll miss seeing the elastic waistband of Christopher’s undies riding above the waistband of his pants, I thought.

He wears Aussiebums. Is that usual for a straight boy?

He’s sweet and softly spoken, handsome and is considerate to all the girls he works with, always going out and getting them lunch, or buying them chocolate. As far as I could ascertain, he lives on his own in Prahran.

I told Jack about being offered the job. He said that was interesting. I told him that I felt like I’d get depressed driving there every day. Jack laughed and said he thought he’d get depressed driving there every day too. It is nice having Jack, he is such an ally.



We ate fried rice for dinner.

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