Cake bar none

Adrian sat at his desk, staring at the small paper packet that his colleague had just delivered. Adrian had requested two “cake bars” from the local sandwich shop, and his colleague had dutifully purchased. While waiting for the sweetmeats to make their journey, Adrian had consumed two toasted sandwiches as luncheon.

Could he hold off until afternoon coffee?

No! He could not.

Could he perhaps start nibbling at one cake bar, and make a coffee before it was completely scoffed down?

No, he failed that as well.

The question remained whether Adrian would be able to delay eating the second cake bar before doing anything else.

The odds were not looking good.

As he bit into the soft mass, Adrian marvelled at the modern technology that allowed the production of cake in perfectly formed rectangular blocks of 120g. Humankind had truly brought everything under its command.

Published in: on November 3, 2010 at 3:03 am  Leave a Comment  
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Hollow assembly

The problem, Adrian mused, was that his manager was prone to giving unnecessary, and long, speeches at the slighest occasion. Nobody gave a fig about Ryan’s birthday, and they were equally disinterested in their boss’s dull exhortation about being a team player or some other such nonsense.

They all just wanted that blessed cake on the table, rich with chocolate and jellied orange slices, around which the salivating team had gathered for this hollow celebration.

Ryan, the bushy-tailed youth, shuffled with embarrassment from all the attention.

Published in: on May 24, 2010 at 12:59 pm  Leave a Comment  
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Health food

“Are you eating healthily, Adrian?” called his grandmother up the narrow stairs of the terraced Burnley house.

“Yes Nanna,” replied Adrian from behind his closed bedroom door, shovelling cold baked beans from a tin into his mouth using a dirty fork.

Outside the rain continued to sleet down from a leaden sky. If there was someone to be angry at for this hell-hole, the weather, life, everything, Adrian wanted to know.

Published in: on May 11, 2010 at 12:02 pm  Leave a Comment  
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Dream signature

In his dream, Adrian was in a scene in which the CEO writes this email signature, and likes it so much that he insists all employees add it to their outgoing email:

Mission: “I am accountable for accelerating high value and competitive opportunities, and enabling Partners, by applying specialist expertise with passion!“

Adrian awoke with a headache. He decided not to go to work today.

Published in: on November 13, 2008 at 5:11 am  Comments (1)  
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Instinctive break

Adrian glanced at his wristwatch, although there was hardly any need. He knew instinctively that this was the time: 2:40pm. He opened his desk drawer and retrieved the familiar lemonade bottle. Pouring himself a small beaker full of the fizzing sweet beverage, he prepared himself for his afternoon break at his desk. Drink on one side of his keyboard, Twix bar on the other; everything perfectly in balance. And the protective comfort of his brown cardigan, to keep him warm from the beastly air conditioning outlet that was sited in the ceiling above him, pointing directly at the back of his neck.

Published in: on October 8, 2008 at 5:04 am  Comments (1)  
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A dance called Morris

As he approached the street performance which was even now blocking his passage through the town square, Adrian heard the irritating clack of whittled sticks and the pathetic tinkling bells of a Morris dancing troupe. He groaned inwardly. He really couldn’t see the point: it wasn’t entertaining back in 1650, and it was ridiculous now. Why preserve this absurd tom foolery of a dance? Ill-smelling middle-aged men, prancing about in off-white shirts with rolled up sleeves! Didn’t they have something better to do on a Saturday afternoon, like edging their lawns or delivering leaflets? He would write a letter about this to the Mayor. It was an activity that needed taxing.

Published in: on September 20, 2008 at 6:38 am  Leave a Comment  
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Single-ply vigilante

It may have seemed extreme, but visiting the men’s room in his long coat was the only way to bring the adjustable wrench into the cubicle unseen. “Somewhere, some accountant bean counter made a business case for buying single-ply toilet paper,” Adrian thought to himself as he sat and worked on the unyielding bolts of the toilet roll holder, “and they justified LOCKING the toilet rolls in industrial grade steel dispensers to deter the pilfering activities of criminally-minded staff.” Two beads of sweat appeared on his forehead as he sweltered at his work with the wrench, crouching in his heavy great coat.

Finally, two innocent rolls of thin toilet paper were freed from their corporate bondage: it was a symbolic moment. Adrian slipped one each into the deep outside pockets of his coat. He was the vigilante – they would be safe with him. Concealing the wrench, he flushed the unused toilet and left the cubicle with a confident and brisk step, feeling like Darth Vader in his flowing cloak having committed a devious act for the dark side – and without washing his hands.

Published in: on September 19, 2008 at 4:41 am  Leave a Comment  
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Employee vend

Adrian stood at the glass fronted vending machine trying to understand what he was being told. He had inserted a limp bill and now had one dollar of credit. But on making his selection – a Twix – the vending robot displayed impolitely, “Use Exact Change” on its one line display, and the Refund button would not work. Adrian thought it very amusing that he was now forced by a machine into ‘up-sell’ and he had to select a pocket-packet of Basil’s Vanilla Sandwich Crème biscuits, for a full $1.

This moment of private hilarity was upstaged seconds later by the appearance of a blonde piece, stabbing buttons on the nearby coffee machine. Wearing cork wedge sandals.

Published in: on September 17, 2008 at 8:13 am  Leave a Comment  
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Eternity in traffic

Adrian sat in the rush-hour traffic for what seemed like an eternity. These were the slowest traffic lights and they only let 3 cars pass per green. Then back to the long red wait. Motionless in his little wheeled box, he stared into the middle distance of dusk and wondered what it was all about. Gradually his eyes drifted downwards, scanning with disinterest the vehicle in front of him, settling eventually on its bumper sticker which asked helpfully, “Eternity: smoking or non-smoking?”

Published in: on September 5, 2008 at 3:55 am  Leave a Comment  
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Jammy revenge

“Somewhere in Old England somebody thought jam with turkey was a good idea,” Adrian thought to himself as a medium-sized blob of sticky red substrate slipped onto his suit trousers from the soft turkey and salad bap he was eating, a roll which he’d found ‘going spare’ on a platter in the office kitchen after an executive function attended by several government officers each of whom had also encountered the caterer’s jammy revenge on their soul-less grey suits, but telling nobody of their sticky mishaps lest they were exposed as lacking the requisite social skills to successfully eat gourmet bready luncheon rolls from paper plates while standing at a vendor event, a light meal which could feasibly be construed as receiving gifts to influence their already hampered decision making capacities, impartial or otherwise.

Published in: on August 29, 2008 at 5:16 am  Leave a Comment  
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Sausage meat and mouth noises

Adrian’s colleague, a friendly engineering type with a tendency to speak his mind, sat at his desk eating something that smelt like lightly warmed – but not cooked – sausage meat. There were minor mouth noises and the rustle of sandwich wrappings.

A creeping nausea came over Adrian.

 

Published in: on August 28, 2008 at 9:06 am  Leave a Comment  
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