a little bit of rhubarb

By Puggle

I spoke twice to other humans this weekend, both by telephone. This is representative:


Guard: This is Security, Trevor here.

Me: Morning, Trevor. I'm a sad pathetic individual with no life who is spending her weekend in the office writing about the economic impact of tariffs and customs duties on the colonial tobacco industry in the nineteenth century.

Trevor: Oh, you're the sad pathetic individual with no life who phoned us yesterday to say she'd be at work until 10pm?

Me: That would be me, yes.

Trevor: And you'll be leaving the premises when?

Me: At a wild guess, anything from 8-10pm.

Trevor: Boy, you really do have no life, you know that?

Me: True, but at least my Sunday is being spent in the CBD. You're in Parramatta.*

Trevor: What's your password?

Me: Now that would be telling.

Trevor: You can either tell me, or I'm going to send a patrol to your building.

Me: For me? Oh, you shouldn't go to that bother... but if you do can you send one who's between 35-50-odd, bonus points for a nice smile?

Trevor: If you don't tell me your password I'll make sure he has a taser.

Me: Is that what they're calling it nowadays? (sigh) 8-6-7-5-3-0-9

Trevor: (prolonged pause) Tommy Tutone?

Me: OK, so you're clearly over 40 if you remember that song.

Trevor: WHAT.IS.YOUR.PASSWORD???

So I give in and tell him; he grunts and hangs up the phone. It wasn't exactly a conversation that ranged far and wide, exploring deep philosophical issues or simply marvelling at the joy of Goon skits like the Mighty Wurlitzer racing through the African desert.

And you could tell he was really disappointed that I was legit and therefore he didn't get to send the boys around with their large batons. Frankly, so was I. ;-)

Anyway, I worked until 8, then went off to have a quick look at the lights down Campbell's Cove before stumbling onto a train home. There endeth the day. And tomorrow a whole new work week dawns....

___
* Geographically, Parramatta is the centre of Sydney. Culturally, it's bordering on a barren, desolate wasteland and best regarded as one of the lesser-known circles of Dante's Hell.

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