Working man...

As some of you might have guessed by now, I have a most unladylike job.  I sell bins for a living, persuading the businesses of the home counties to stick their waste anywhere other than in a hole in the ground.  So although it's not ladylike (heels, slap and frocks are not required) I suppose it's very worthwhile, which is a good thing.

For the past two years, I have been working with Master B in the sales office.  You may remember him as the one with odd music tastes, strange tattoos and a penchant for cat food (tuna-based meals for one - not good in a room the size of the average airing cupboard).  Sadly, Master B is off to pastures new, abandoning Master P and me to the highs and lows of trade waste.  

Yesterday, it became apparent that that Master B was clearing his desk out.  How did I know this? Well, most of the desk's contents were reverently laid out on my desk in neat piles, and when Master B saw me looking at it all with that one raised eyebrow look which I have perfected so well (years of practise with four children) he said to me, 'I thought it might come in useful'.

Let's discuss what his interpretation of 'useful' is, shall we.

First of all, there was a heavily stained drinks mat.  It had the company logo on it I think, although it was hard to tell as it had more rings than Saturn.  This was pushed to one side as I already have a lovely drinks coaster which Master P bought me, which claims that 'I love Prague'.  I've never been, but it's safe to assume that its similar to Krakow, so I'm happy to go along with the protestation of love.

The next item was a stack of forty three A5 envelopes, all addressed to Master B - we use these to encourage customers to send back their paperwork more quickly.  Now I have my own envelopes, as does Master P, so yesterday I carefully Tippexed Master B's name off the envelope, replacing his name with 'FAO The Sales Office'.  Well I couldn't just chuck them into the recycling bin, could I?  I hate waste...

The last item, but the most worrying of all, were four strips of very bendy wood, the kind which would make a very satisfying 'thwack' if you hit them against the desk.  Now not only do I have any idea where they came from, but I don't know what possible use they could have.  Perhaps they might come in handy when breaking in the new salesman?

Not to worry, other than the envelopes (which I am sure will never be used as they now no longer reach my demanding standards) the other items were filed away under 'R' (for Rubbish, so straight into the bin). Of course, it could just as easily have been filed under 'C' (Crap), as the final destination would have been the same.

Talking to someone about the job vacancy yesterday, Master B was asked what the commission was like.  'Well', he said.  'It's not all yachts and champagne you know'.  

So true, but it has been a lot of fun working with him...