A Tale Of Two Celebrations
Entry posted by caldrail
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I woke up this morning in a sort of tired downbeat mood. Sort of like that monday feeling but delayed by two days for extra suffering. Wednesdays in Swindon are always greyer than normal. Don't know why, they just are. It's traditional.
You see, the thirteen weeks of my placement are coming to an end. I hate to admit it but I've actually enjoyed being there. Well, maybe not quite all the time, just enough of it to bring a tear to my cheek as I look back and remember my time as J's disciple. So inspired were we by his leadership, his sense of humour, his complete lack of respect to authority, and his general "What am I doing here?" attitude, that we left a big message scrawled on carboard and taped across his favourite baler. "WE LOVE YOU J" it said.
Now before you start thinking that working in a clothes shop has radically altered our sexuality and self image, I would like to point out that KS today made strong hints that his love life isn't over. And that from a guy who reckoned he was temporarily celibate. So to celebrate our last day under J's tutelage we headed down to the sandwich bar at lunch and got all nostalgic. To be honest, what I really wanted to do was get drunk, but...
Stupid Tax of the Week
The Chancellor of the Exchequer had announced in his latest budget that cider is going up in price. Oh brilliant. Does the government really think I'm going to apologise for my criticism of their cack-handed financial skulduggery? Not only have they made life more expensive for me, but now they want me to foot the bill for it too. Except... The second item of good news today is that the government might not be able to raise the price of duty on cider after all, because they're all so busy fighting for their political lives now the election date is set for May 6th. Woo-Hooo!!!!!!!
Stupid Repair of the Week
Today they fixed the air conditioning. So now the winter is over the heating has been turned on. "We want it at least twenty degrees all over the store" Proclaimed the management. More like twenty five to thirty. It was sweltering hot under that renovated fan. So hot in fact that I felt it important to my well-being to strip off and enjoy the summer-like heat.
Mrs T even popped her head around the corner in disbelief I'd done that. How she giggled. She was in such a good mood she even let KS play with his mobile phone. And she came past for another look. J saw me too and crept past in embarrasement. The Rampant Rabbit saw me but claimed he hadn't looked. And my boss enquired later that afternoon as to why I had my shirt on. Miss L had already gone home and was spared the psychological trauma of seeing me in the flesh.
Song of the Week
That old classic by The Eagles
On a dark Swindon highstreet
Cool wind in my hair
Warm smell of burgers
Rising up through the air
Up ahead in the distance
The place to earn my pay
My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim
But I'd found the shop okay
There I stood in the doorway
I rang the outside bell
And I was thinking to myself
"This could be heaven or this could be hell"
Then a manager opened the side door
And he showed me the way
There were voices down the corridor
I thought I heard them say
Welcome to the lonely high street stockroom
Such a lovely place
Keep up the pace
Plenty of room in the racks of the lonely stockroom
Any time of year
You can find it here
The manageress is twisted
She got the Mercedes-Benz
She got a lot of pretty, pretty boys
That she calls friends
How they dance in the shopfloor
In amongst the clothes
Some dance to remember
Some dance to forget
So I called the supervisor
"Please bring me my pay"
He said, "We haven't had any money here
Since 1968"
And still those voices are calling from far away
Wake you up in the middle of the day
Just to hear them say
Welcome to the lonely high street stockroom
Such a lovely place
Where we work in haste
They're living it upstairs in the darkened stockroom
What a nice surprise
Bring your alibis
They've just fixed the heating
At some outrageous price
And she said, "We are all just prisoners here
Of our own device"
And in the managers chambers
They gathered for the feast
They stab it with their steely knives
But they just can't kill the beast
Last thing I remember, I was
Running for the door
I had to find the passage back
To the place I was before
"Relax," said the night man
"We are programmed to unpack
You can check out any time you like
But you'll only get the sack!"
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