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Down on Fraggle Rock…

April 19, 2010

Here’s a run down of some of the weird characters that i come into contact with at work on a daily basis..

First up there’s Completely Deaf Millionaire Man.  He is a bumbling, rotund pork pie of a man who has 7% hearing, or so he tells me.  I see him for roughly 90 seconds everyday.  He hates the other Receptionist and describes her as “the miserable cow”.  He reminds me of this every time i see him by exhaling lengthily, shaking his head and just saying “she’s a miserable cow int she” assuming i know who he’s talking about.  The other day he came back into Reception five minutes after his visit “just to check” i knew he was deaf.  No, i figured you were just putting on that i’m-speaking-through-a-pillow voice and i’d missed the memo that hearing aids were ‘in’.   He calls me ‘smiler’ on account of the false smile i put on for five hours while i’m behind the desk.  Today he told me he was a millionaire and he insisted his wife looked no older than i did, he returned to his van and came back with “proof” producing a picture key ring as evidence to his statement.  She looked over forty.  I wanted to kill myself, and him, he’s fucking hard work.

Second is the human embodiment of stage fright.  He walks at a 60 degree angle with such urgency that you’d be inclined to think he’s just shit his pants and is running for the nearest loo.  He completes this demeaner with an expression of unmitigated terror as if he has 30 thirty seconds left before the bomb in his pants explodes.   When he isn’t racing between destinations and you make the error of asking him a question he will take ten minutes to come up with a twitchy roundabout answer where a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’ would have sufficed, by which time your eyes have glazed over and most of the blood in your body has drained to your feet.

Madam Unhygiene – a shit factory that goes to the toilet 20 times a day, doesn’t flush or wash her hands and as  my brother describes her “the one that looks like a dead baby bird”.  She will stink out the restrooms, fart like a marine and talk to me like i’m 4 years old.  Last week she showed us how to fold a piece of paper in half.  Today, the first thing my fellow receptionist said to me during our handover was “There’s sweetcorn in the toilet.” we shared a deadpan look of disgust, no words were required because we both knew whodunnit.  When you work in these sorts of roles people assume your brain is made of mashed potato – this woman has made this assumption.  I’m toying with the idea of shouting out 4 syllable words when someone walks by and when they say “what?” i’ll follow it up with the dictionary definition and then continue licking the windows like the retard everyone thinks i am.

Mr Victorian – This guy must be in his sixties but he wouldn’t look out of place riding a penny farthing or attending a William Gladstone dinner party.  In fact, I feel like he is William Gladstone re-incarnated, ready to reform prostitutes by feeding them sweets and chocolate and lecturing them on how they could improve their lives.  Everyone likes him.  He would make an excellent Granddad.  I bet he eats sardines and tomato on little toast.

HR lady – Looks like a giant Pilsbury Toaster boy.

Danny Dyer – Danny Dyer’s secret twin, winks at me every time he leaves for the day and says “seeyuh lay-er Amy” in his regional cockney accent.  This makes my tummy have butterflies but i don’t know why, i don’t find him attractive in the least.  He’s one of the few people that work here that appears to have been raised on something other than just potatoes as he is over 5’9″.

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