They Were The High Points Of The Day

The bitch who sits in the sales room always looks up and gives me the greasies whenever I come through the door of the sales room. Some days I just want to flick my chin at her, threateningly.

What is your entire problem, you Larson caricature? I think.

Oh, she is plain and fat. Her hair pulled back sharply. Pointy chin.

I have to go to the kitchen, that is where the coffee machine is. I have no option. I honestly can’t drink instant any more. That’s very Melbourne, I know. It is not like I am only going into the kitchen for the Kingston biscuits. I mean, not to mislead anyone, the Kingston biscuits are in the Sales Kitchen, I’m not trying to say they are not. The point is, the coffee machine is the only one on our level. Of course, Revolta at the door, may well have eaten her share of the Kingston empire in her day, there is little doubt about that, but I'm just going for coffee. Don’t you hate the office kitchen that has a perpetually filled jar of biscuits, you can’t help but take one, while you are waiting. But those eyes, suddenly, hawk-like, a snake, sssss... ev...e…ry time. She must work 100 hours a week because she always seems to be there.

I had no lunch box today, because we ate the leftovers last night for dinner. That is where cooking at home is cheaper, “the second meal.” I hate it when I don’t have my lunch box now, ah, married life. So, I had to walk to Victoria Gardens for food. Subway. And two pork dim sims, sshh, don’t tell Sam. But, no muffin so that must count for something. Free WiFi, it's shit, but it does the job. There I am with my laptop. Me and everybody else. I have to seriously admit addiction. Still, it is better than the misery in the newspapers. Everybody is looking at their phone, anyway. All those people in the food court, everyone looking at a small device in their hands. It doesn’t matter if they are alone, or not. There are groups of two, three, four and they are still all looking at their phones, none the less. Harness the internet and you harness the people.

I walked into the lunch room to make a cup of coffee in the afternoon. There were two of the sales guys in there already. The Ray Romano looking one standing up and the Jason Statham type sitting down. Ray Romano was talking, his last words before the coffee machine whirred into action were, “It is just fun.”

Whir, clack, grind, clack, grind, whir, whoosh, squirt, gurgle, gurgle, slurp, slurp, slurp, clack.

I could hear that they were talking, while the coffee machine was working, but I couldn’t hear what they were saying.

“Lick your arse,” were the three words I heard after the coffee machine came to an abrupt stop and suddenly there was silence, their conversation dropping decibels with each word. Then there was nothing, that’s not a couple I would have put together, I thought, as I picked up my cup. I could hear the mumble of conversation start to vibrate again, after I had left the room.

I wondered who would be the top? The obvious choice would be Jason Statham, but I reckon when it came down to it, he’d tuck his head under his arm and stick his arse in the air, and enjoy the man flesh. And Ray is the Italian, come on. I tried to picture Ray Romano all sweaty and turned on... in his undies... the hem of his boxer shorts sticking to his sweaty thighs.