I was playing poker in my home office the other day when my young daughter burst excitedly into the room, âDaddy, Daddy come and have a look at the picture I drew for youâ she squealed with excitement. âIâm busyâ came my curt reply, and I was busy, having just flopped a set against what I suspected was an over pair I didnât want to miss a penny in value through a loss of concentration, after all my opponent was sitting deep stacked with nearly four dollars in front of him at .01/.02, this was serious business, this was internet poker.
My daughter trudged slowly from the room, her spirits as crushed as my opponents aces. At that moment a black crow appeared on the windowsill of my office and it squawked loudly at me, there was a malicious glint in its eyes which where focused on me intently, âsquawkâ it said, by which I mean it didnât squawk it actually said the word âsquawkâ.
âFuck of you cuntâ I directed at the crow and then started to make strange shoeing type motions with my outstretched arms which might have worked against your common or garden avian but not against this weird looking brute, it appeared to me at least as if the bird rocked back on his claws and simultaneously tilted its head backwards as if examining me in bemusement, âsquawkâ it said.
Over the next few days this âbirdâ became my constant companion, when I went to work I was able to lose him at the secured entrance every morning, but the bugger still some how managed to find its way into the office. Once inside it would sit on the shelf above my desk, sitting still as a statue for most of the day, this patient vigil would occasionally be interrupted by the bird either shouting the words âsquawkâ with an air of menace or taking a short flight around the office where it would nearly always attempt to shit on me. My colleagues where either extremely polite or genuinely hadnât noticed the malevolent and slightly cartoonish looking bird that had just recently joined them in there daily grind.
When I returned home of an evening I would manage to lock the demon bird out of my abode, yet it always managed to find a way in the house either through a window or the back door, there always seemed some route conveniently left open for it to continue its malignant vigil over me. I suspected my daughter or wife might be in collusion with the evil avian but of course it must have been as much of an obtrusion to there daily life as it was to mine, although maybe not, every time it said âsquawkâ I said to my wife, âBloody thingâ and she just looked at me quizzically, the wife has an innate ability to ignore my constant droning regarding the myriad of grievances that seem to blight my existence.
On Wednesday one of the guyâs who worked with me had a child care emergency, he begged me to work his late shift but I told him I couldnât because I had to pick up my own child. I could have done it, the wife was picking her up, I just lied, I donât like him very much and he laughed at me on Tuesday morning when the evil crow scored a direct hit with one of its packages and I was covered in bird shit.
At the precise moment I was telling him I couldnât help him out a penguin turned up, he looked at me and said âHonkâ, I didnât really know what noise a penguin was supposed to make, so I Googled it and was informed by Wikipedia that âPenguins make a whole array of sounds, just like any other bird. They can screech, tweet and even make a honking noise like geese. It all depends upon the situation and their communicationâ, so there you have it âHonkâ is accurate, although again Iâm pretty sure there supposed to make a noise that relatively closely resembles the word Honk rather than actually say the word âHonkâ, I looked the penguin square in the eyes and asked him, âdo you also screech and tweet?â to which he replied, âHonkâ, fucking Wikipedia I thought to myself, you just canât trust it.
For the next few days the Penguin and the crow accompanied me everywhere, the penguin though was a much more active pursuer, a ten minute spell without the black and white nuisance pecking at my heels or ankle was almost unheard off, by Friday lunch time I had just about enough and adjourned to the pub followed by my small band of animal brothers.
I drank heavily and quickly as to be fair I do most Friday lunch times, but on this occasion at 2pm when the regular Friday drinkers begin to slowly trickle back to the office the penguin caught me with a right smarting nip just below the posterior talotibial lionline gament and I thought fuck it, and ploughed on through to the 3pm barrier.
As I sat in the pub surrounded by the human detritus that has nowhere better to be at 3pm on a work day than in the boozer, I realised I had a decision to make, carry on drinking, fuck work off for the day and spend the weekend worrying about what was going to happen, or head back now, hope no one sayâs anything then steam back to the pub as soon as humanely possible, I meekly choose option 2 and started my way back.
I make my way back through town towards the office, finally reaching the ground floor reception at about 3.30pm, as I board the lift I manage to give the Crow and penguin the slip and finally alone with my thoughts I begin dreading the smart arse comments that will shortly be aimed in my direction, you know the sort of thing, âGet lost did you Kev?â, âhave a nice liquid lunch mate?â itâs always the right smarmy cunts who feel they have to say something, they pretend as if there having a laugh with you, but all there really trying to do is make sure one of the governors spots that youâve been at it.
Joy of all joyâs, I reach my office and I realise its totally empty, I quietly slip behind my desk and marvel at my own brilliance. Iâve stolen from the âmanâ by having a long lunch and Iâve got away with it, Viva la revolution. At this precise moment Iâm almost knocked from my chair as Iâm clumped around the back of the head viscously. I swing round to see staring back at me a baby elephant, it sayâs âtrumpetâ.
âTrumpet? This is going to require some Googlingâ I think to myself, but before I can fire up IE the Crow and the Penguin catch-up with me. They both give me an the evil eye for having given them the slip so deftly, âHonkâ sayâs the penguin which is imbued with a level of menace that seems unreal for such a short harmless word. Honk, as in âif you ever try something like that again Iâll break your fucking legs, you fucking no markâ sort of honk.
I was thinking about resolving the âTrumpetâ issue via the power of the internet but before I can Google away (I later find out that Wikipedia states, âThe noise an Elephant makes is a trumpeting gargling roaring and crying sound at the same timeâ I later decide to add to the Wikipedia definition âA bit like a midget being raped by an Organutanâ, I love to help) when my supervisor, Drew came storming over to me.
âWhere the hell have you been?â shouted Drew, who was at the time no more than two inches from my face and easily close enough that I could get the full effect of his stale coffee breath. Cards on the table here, I really hate this fucker, a typical example of the Peter principal, we used to be on the same level both employed as senior loan advisors, but Drew was promoted last Christmas and has now spent the best part of the last year proving that this minor step up the corporate ladder as small as it undoubtedly is, was still going to prove to be far too much for his meagre abilities to handle.
He is a total twat as well, I mean the blokeâs name is Andrew, yet instead of taking the down to earth sobriquet of Andy he decides to reinvent himself as âDrewâ, what a cunt. Sorry, what was I saying? Sorry as I approach middle age I find myself wandering off at all sorts of tangents, Oh yeah âDrew(Cunt)â is shouting at me, and going on about showing him up and trying to sabotage his promotion, which Iâm not, because I just could not give a fuck.
Drew has got in into his head that if he can just not fuck anything up for a week or two then his bound to be made the loans director replacing Geoff who everyone liked but was recently sacked after getting caught scamming the company. Not sure scamming was the correct term to use, it gives the impression that Geoff was pulling off some clever Machiavellian plot when he really wasnât. His plan if you can even call it that wasnât particularly clever and will be familiar to anyone who has ever tried to Martingale* black jack or roulette.
Geoff would divert any large loan repayments that arrived a day or two early to his own private stock trading account, He would then use this cash to spread across dozens of low risk shares listed on the Dow Jones, wait for a few points up tick which translated into a few grand for himself, cash out and repay the loans. To Geoff this seamed fool proof, any small losses he could write of as defaulted payments and the profits he creamed off for his retirement fund, in fact one sunny autumnal afternoon he decided it would be a good idea to âup his anteâ as it where and spread a huge loan repayment from an oil company across most of wall street, of course by mid afternoon the next day, September the 11th it didnât seem such a good idea.
Drew was shouting about some big ethics and standards meeting (a direct consequence from Geoffâs private dealings no doubt) that we had all received a memo about and how I was trying to sabotage his career etc etc, he then stopped ranting and raving and stared straight at me and calmly said, âyour pissed again arenât you?â as slowly a self satisfied smile spread across his face as the words leaked out. âNoâ I replied vehemently as a wave of stale lager breath crashed into Drewâs face, which had the effect of only increasing the width of his smile as he realised he finally had me by the balls.
âCome alongâ he said, almost dragging me off into meeting room A where the entire department where congregated under the watchful eyes of the heads of HR, some kind of Christians and lions metaphor would probable be appropriate, but I couldnât think of one as I was quite a bit pissed and could only think about curry.
Drew shepherds me to front of the room and plonks we in a chair right under the nose of Clair OâNion our school mistress like head of Human resources who insists her surname is pronounced OO-NIGH-UUN which she imbues with a French twang which conjures up images of some Parisian starlet and not UNG-YEE-OON which is how everyone else pronounces it and conjures up images of a root vegetable.
Miss OO-NIGH-UUN is your prototypical head of HR, a thug and bully of the political correct variety and she scares the shit out of me. As I feel the alcohol radiating off, I glance up and can see the bullet point displayed on the overhead projector, âAlcohol abuse in the work place â Zero Tolerance Policyâ I can literally see the booze sweating out off my pores and a polluting the entire room, I have never felt so conspicuous in my life as I do right now, this record thought lasts only a few seconds as the door burst open and in come my animal companions.
The animals look really pissed off with me, the elephant steps forward sayâs âtrumpetâ and then smacks me around the head with his trunk really fucking hard, so hard in fact that my head starts to spin and with the alcohol in my system inhibiting my ability to regain focus and balance soon after I up chuck a good few pints of lager and scampi fries all over Miss OO-NIGH-UUNâs expensive shoeâs, the stench of stale beer and part digested fishy snack treats is unmistakable.
Miss OO-NIGH-UUN although plainly disgusted stands up and addresses the room, âClearly we cannot pretend there is not a problem as this branch, we can no longer ignore the elephant in the roomâ, Drew shoots up out of his chair, âIâve tried to warn him about his drinking Mrs Onion, but he just wonât listen, he needs to be fired, immediatelyâ Miss OO-NIGH-UUN look at him like the piece of sputum that he is and then at the top of her voice screams, âits OOOOOO-NIGHHHHHH-UUNNNNNN you silly little man!â, Drew shrinks back in visible shock as his envisaged moment of victory begins to slip away.
Miss OO-NIGH-UUN continues, âWe give you this place to run for a few weeks and look at it, youâve turned it into a bloody menagerieâ Drew looks totally bemused, âa bloody zoo you idiot â Miss OO-NIGH-UUN clarifies, âand to top it off a bloody elephant just assaulted an employee, if he sues youâll be lucky to keep you job you blithering idiotâ.
Miss OO-NIGH-UUN and the other human resources people gather around and try to clean me up whilst offering there apologies for the viscous assault, Drew is marched of and the whole office can here the dressing down he receives from Conference room B and begin to arrange a pint to celebrate.
Miss OO-NIGH-UUN refuses my offer to pay for her shoes to be cleaned and insists I leave work immediately, and I do, and ten minutes later Iâm sat back in the pub no accompanied by half the office celebrating the likely removal of the office dictator. As the sad and weary afternoon drinkers are replaced by the fun Friday night crowd it dawns on me I have been sans my animal companions since the incident at the office.
I head for the bar and my run of luck continues as I purchase a pint with a fiver and am given changed from a twenty, I neglect to inform the bar man of his mistake and as I turn around I hear something say âROARâ, I donât know whether to laugh or cry, so I do neither.
Its also my first win on UB as I cant play to many MTTs there due to the horrible schedule for Euro
would have been up over a million chips had that held but hey, still a decent run.
