I wake up at 4 am. Rain batters against the window. I lie awake in the darkness until the rhythmic thrum of the rainfall begins to lull me back to sleep. At the last moment before I drop off, the muffled sound of laughter comes from Ian’s room. Female laughter. I strain to hear more, but the noise of the rain is too loud. Maybe Ian is watching a film, or checking the Kate Moss websites that he likes. My bed is warm and cosy and comfortable and I fall asleep.
I wake up at 8 am. I struggle out of bed, shower and breakfast, and put on my coat to leave at 8.42 am. The rain has cleared and the day looks bright and freshly-washed through the kitchen window. Ian’s Dr. Martens are by the door, the blue and red laces trailing across the mat. Next to them is a pair of scuffed pumps, quietly shedding sequins on the floor.
I get to work at 8.50 am. I hang up my coat and clock in. In the storeroom are a tower of bananas, a tower of peaches and a tower of apples. I fetch a trolley and wheel it over to the towers.
Crack.
Ow.
The Turtle is standing 3 metres behind me. She draws back the whip for another strike.
Morning, she says.
Morning, I say, warily.
Crack.
Ow.
You won’t need the trolley today.
Really? Why?
Crack.
Ow.
She consults a clipboard.
It says here you are the Replenishment Supervisor.
That’s right.
Crack.
Ow.
Basically you have staff to supervise. Three new replenishment assistants for the fresh produce department. You have to supervise their first day.
She hands me the clipboard. There are a list of activities and checkboxes on the sheet.
Oh, she says, and there’s one more thing.
She hands me a small cudgel.
Management tool. Just in case they don’t understand.
She winks, slowly and deliberately, and walks away.
Has HR said anything about my holiday? I say.
Crack.
Ow.
I wake up at 8 am. I struggle out of bed, shower and breakfast, and put on my coat to leave at 8.42 am. The rain has cleared and the day looks bright and freshly-washed through the kitchen window. Ian’s Dr. Martens are by the door, the blue and red laces trailing across the mat. Next to them is a pair of scuffed pumps, quietly shedding sequins on the floor.
I get to work at 8.50 am. I hang up my coat and clock in. In the storeroom are a tower of bananas, a tower of peaches and a tower of apples. I fetch a trolley and wheel it over to the towers.
Crack.
Ow.
The Turtle is standing 3 metres behind me. She draws back the whip for another strike.
Morning, she says.
Morning, I say, warily.
Crack.
Ow.
You won’t need the trolley today.
Really? Why?
Crack.
Ow.
She consults a clipboard.
It says here you are the Replenishment Supervisor.
That’s right.
Crack.
Ow.
Basically you have staff to supervise. Three new replenishment assistants for the fresh produce department. You have to supervise their first day.
She hands me the clipboard. There are a list of activities and checkboxes on the sheet.
Oh, she says, and there’s one more thing.
She hands me a small cudgel.
Management tool. Just in case they don’t understand.
She winks, slowly and deliberately, and walks away.
Has HR said anything about my holiday? I say.
Crack.
Ow.
Hello, my name is Jack Sparrow. I'm a 50 year old self-employed Pirate from the Caribbean.
No comments:
Post a Comment