It was about half eleven at night, Sparkling Eyes had just come through the front door. I'd finished watching a documentary called 'The Light Bulb Conspiracy.' (Which I recommend to anyone to watch as it's about the throw away society and how manufacturers purposefully build in obsolescence). Sparkling was able to poor herself a glass of wine and give a five minute update on work. Then there was a quiet knock on the door.
"Who could that be?" asked Sparkling.
"I don't know."
"It must be L & B man, it can't be anyone else." She said.
He came in with a crazed look in his eyes and a lot to say. I'd been briefed there were issues with his employer and L & B needed to tell someone.This is the most important thing in his life at the moment, he was possessed and I was about to find out what was possessing him.
"It's not about the wife! It's not about the daughter. (both shopaholics) It's not about me son (lost in his own teenage angst) It's about me!" His stare penetrated like he had X-ray eyes. He was feverish, manic, on the edge, excited, knew he was in the right, had a battle on his hands and wore a t-shirt. Bare arms ready to fight.This was the only issue which mattered, nothing else.
So for the next hour, I made L & B tea while he gave me the low down on work. At one point he stood up, and gave me the stare, the one which says"you gotta take me seriously." Rather the world will take me seriously. The fight was on. But I wasn't agreeing with what he said. Sparkling said I didn't know the full story, L & B's passion was so much he said he was going to hit me. That I didn't know what I was talking about. It didn't help Sparkling joined in by saying I made her mad at times and she felt like she wanted to hit me as well. I'd better watch myself, in a few minutes I could get a thrashing just because I didn't agree as brother and sister were about to chop me up into little bits and feed me to the dicky birds in the morning. There was only one course of action, I agreed, he had a case and they had to answer it. They were in the wrong, he stood up and feigned a half vulnerable pathetic look, saying little old me is disabled and they are treating me unfairly. For L & B it was definitely "all about me." Ten cigarettes later, two cups of tea, and a passionate discussion about his predicament all was well, head held high he went out the front door, chuffed. For this evening his job was complete, yet another spectator had gone on to L & B's side. He will win this fight.
In the next couple of days I'll get to see a two inch folder of evidence on the poor decisions and discrimination of his work. Must drink lots of coffee, stay awake, don't be caught yawning, I'll not offend him. Not when he's got his t-shirt on and raging for another discussion of "it's all about me." Sparkling will then get a chance to take a back seat, as long as she don't roll up her sleeves as well I should get it. The prospect of a shallow grave in the back garden just doesn't cut the mustard. I got at least another 30 years of life left. Heck, it's not about me it's about him. Roll over the little one said.
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