Smoking has its many disadvantages – one of them being the conversations you enter into with complete strangers whilst standing alone in the proverbial smoker’s corner. But you know me, I love this shit so in my case it's fuel for the fire!
This friends, is a tale about Memo. Memo was a relatively handsome German man with Italian heritage who was very well presented and had just flown back to Sydney from Melbourne where he had been in the process of acquiring a business. No shit – we were standing outside Establishment on George Street so he was the type.
As we were chatting about his impending triumph, my girlfriends left the bar and walked past us – “we’re going to the Ivy, come and bring your 'friend'!” I laughed off the innuendo in Fiona’s tone and continued with the intelligent conversation I seemed to have found myself in. At that point, Memo invited me inside for a drink. I toyed with the idea – coming to the ultimate conclusion that I needed to get out and meet more people so picked up my bag and followed him back inside (after taking a detour via the ladies – for a wee).
When I arrived at the bar he was standing alone which surprised me as he’d told me he had been with some friends. “They’re over there” he grunted. Now I know that Germans are the straightforward, directional type but this guy struck me as borderline pissed off. I don’t think it helped that when he was buying me a drink, a bunch of wasted English guys came over and introduced themselves – they were pretty funny though..
Nevertheless, I politely turned my back on them to resume my dialogue with Memo and set my sites on getting to the bottom of why he looked so fucking miserable. “I am tired” he said, “AND my colleague pissed me off today as he kept presenting my bits of the presentation”. No way, that sucks. Anyway, moving on…
The conversation moved on to ‘so what do you do when you’re not working on banky stuff?’ (Obviously I tried to sound a bit more educated than that).
Memo: “I listen to violin music with a glass of wine”.
Me: “…………..and………….”
Memo: “And occasionally I do some work”
What??? When this guy’s not working, he’s working. I told him he needed to get a life – in the nicest possible way of course. He seemed to open up. I even told him all about my end dreams to have a family and loving husband whilst sustaining a steady and fulfilling career – I felt it essential we moved onto me after he whipped out a CD of violin anthems. “Do you know Bach?” he said as he handed it to me. Immediate thought – since when did Bach play 'My Heart Will Go On'?
At this point I decided we should go for another cigarette - the change of scenery was enticing enough to shake the conversation up a bit. To inject some humour back into the situation as I regularly feel the need to do, I spotted a rather sweaty looking fat bloke a few metres away who happened to be wearing a strikingly similar shirt to my Deutsch friend. In a moment of comic genius, I pointed this out to Memo. It went down like a fart in a space suit. Still, I seem to get a kick out of winding people up that simply don't find ANYTHING funny. It's a challenge to me.
The final leg of this encounter was exercised back in the bar. We had moved on to talk about business aspirations - a topic we both seemingly enjoyed to the point where I felt it relevant to discuss a new business idea of my own. Memo gazed at me with a look of admiration - what a reception - my idea clearly rocked! Then I made the mistake of pausing my chat to take a breath. He moved in. He went for the lips. I retracted my attention.
Memo: "We have been talking serious for an hour now".
Me: "Have we...?"
Memo: "We can talk about how I might end up back at yours"
Me: "No we can't"
Memo: "Why not?"
Me: "Look, I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong idea but I met you an hour ago - I mean what are the chances of us exchanging phone numbers and getting to know each other?"
Memo: "We won't"
Me: "Fair enough, I'm off..."
And that was it! It was then I realised that admiration face = sex face. This guy was amazing! There was no bullshit, he simply wanted a shag and had no quarms expressing it. And I did so much to test the situation and put him off - I mean talking about marriage and the desire for offspring within 30mins of meeting someone is practically saying "I am going to stalk you and make your life a living hell" to a guy isn't it? I may as well have had 'Bunny Boiler' tattooed on my head and he still went in for the kill.
I got on the Manly ferry which I made within 5 mins of it leaving which made me happy. I remembered the last couple of hours which made me even happier. It's material like this I live for!
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Demon Cleaner
"Demon Cleaner" is a song by Kyuss, a Californian band that were influential in the early nineties. The band were formed in the late1980s but split up in 1995 with members of the band dispersing and continuing their musical careers by going on to appear in bands such as Queens of the Stoneage and Slo Burn.
Demon Cleaner has generated some debate around the underlying meaning behind the lyrics - some believe that it denotes themes of alcohol abuse, a theory associated with the washing away of demons. Others look to use drugs as an explanation for similar reasons. This song touches my heart in a different way - to me the lyrics are clear in their expression:
"I've got the demons in me, I've got to brush them all away, I feel the demons rage I must clean them all away Yeah (yeah)"
This opening verse resonates on me like the fires of hell experienced as a small child when freshly awoken from a chilling nightmare. The cold sweats, the racing heartbeat, the longing to be beside your parents to collect their warmth and safety that only their time and presence in the dark night can calm. As a 26 year old adult, this translates to 10a.m. in the office.
I see him, he enters the room with a 'click,click' of the security enabled doors. Slower than most, and bringing with him a cool, spooky smell. The air changes from a room filled with the bitter sweet aroma of the morning's freshly made coffee to the bitter smell of - the cleaner. He is an elderley man, although appears younger than his age, with Greek origins. Moody.
During the period of innocence I embraced during my first few weeks at my current company, I was amazed at how welcoming the office could be - I mean what other company provides you with barista fresh coffee and a selection of breakfast options before you embark on a long day in media? I had found my home.
A inevitable consequence of this ultimate luxury however is obvious. Dishes. And unfortunately mugs too. But wait - there is a cleaner that comes in at 10a.m. to combat this situation - this place just gets better! Except for one thing. One small issue - this man resents having to move soiled crockery from one place to the next. Herein lies the fundamental problem and thus, marks the point in time where our relationship both starts and finishes. And so my story begins...
One glorious Wednesday morning, the sun was out, people in the office were buzzing as the hump in the week dawned and I had decided to treat myself to a glass of water as well as my usual caffeine based beverage. I had also decided that cereal was the way forward that morning. To make life easier for the cleaning staff, the cereal bowls are made from paper and easy to throw away and recycle. But this particular morning, something happened that diverted me away from my regular Wednesday morning routine - a meeting. In the hustle and bustle of preparation, I left my desk in a fleeting disorganised fashion, prioritising as I felt necessary. This meant leaving the remnants of my breakfast experience on my desk. To my ultimate misfortune, I failed to even throw the paper dish in the bin.
10.01a.m. and I am returning to my seat - shit. I am one nano-second behind the cleaner - this isn't a good position to be in. The conversation went something like this:
Cleaner: "What is this?"
Me: "That's my bowl"
Cleaner: "Fucking Jesus Christ"
Me: "I'm sorry?"
Cleaner: "Filthy fucking fuckers"
Me: "Sorry, I had more than the usual coffee this morning"
Cleaner: "Fuck"
Now forgive me if I am speaking out of turn here but isn't that a little extreme? In response to the scenario I had just found myself in and to my colleague's hysterics as he sat next to me, witnessing the whole thing, trying not to throw up through too much amusement, I spoke again although more quietly this time:
Me: "Hang on...isn't that his job?"
Now some might think that this is out of order on my part, but I am done with trying to be politically correct in this uptight day and age we live in and tend to say things as I see them. FACT.
At this point, I was informed by my fellow co-workers that I should probably watch out as the death stares I received following this incident suggested that pre-meditated murder might be on the cards. I kindly asked Ben to move the axe he had as a secret santa present from his desk incase this encouraged the situation.
This isn't the first episode of this nature by any means, there are many, many more, including the time when he called his 7 year old Grandson by the C word before giving him permission to shake Ed's hand. This was only okayed because Ed wasn't a homosexual, I think his exact words were 'it's OK, he's not a faggott'. And so I have added one more person to my list of people who I vow I will never get on with (and there aren't many).
And so from this unique individual, I take from the experience of meeting him the determination to go about my work with a smile and kind word to my fellow co-worker (alright, that probably doesn't happen all the time, but I don't think they sit there worrying I am about to commit GBH).
Enjoy:
http://video.google.com.au/videosearch?hl=en&q=demon+cleaner&um=1&ie=UTF-8&sa=X&oi=video_result_group&resnum=4&ct=title#
Demon Cleaner has generated some debate around the underlying meaning behind the lyrics - some believe that it denotes themes of alcohol abuse, a theory associated with the washing away of demons. Others look to use drugs as an explanation for similar reasons. This song touches my heart in a different way - to me the lyrics are clear in their expression:
"I've got the demons in me, I've got to brush them all away, I feel the demons rage I must clean them all away Yeah (yeah)"
This opening verse resonates on me like the fires of hell experienced as a small child when freshly awoken from a chilling nightmare. The cold sweats, the racing heartbeat, the longing to be beside your parents to collect their warmth and safety that only their time and presence in the dark night can calm. As a 26 year old adult, this translates to 10a.m. in the office.
I see him, he enters the room with a 'click,click' of the security enabled doors. Slower than most, and bringing with him a cool, spooky smell. The air changes from a room filled with the bitter sweet aroma of the morning's freshly made coffee to the bitter smell of - the cleaner. He is an elderley man, although appears younger than his age, with Greek origins. Moody.
During the period of innocence I embraced during my first few weeks at my current company, I was amazed at how welcoming the office could be - I mean what other company provides you with barista fresh coffee and a selection of breakfast options before you embark on a long day in media? I had found my home.
A inevitable consequence of this ultimate luxury however is obvious. Dishes. And unfortunately mugs too. But wait - there is a cleaner that comes in at 10a.m. to combat this situation - this place just gets better! Except for one thing. One small issue - this man resents having to move soiled crockery from one place to the next. Herein lies the fundamental problem and thus, marks the point in time where our relationship both starts and finishes. And so my story begins...
One glorious Wednesday morning, the sun was out, people in the office were buzzing as the hump in the week dawned and I had decided to treat myself to a glass of water as well as my usual caffeine based beverage. I had also decided that cereal was the way forward that morning. To make life easier for the cleaning staff, the cereal bowls are made from paper and easy to throw away and recycle. But this particular morning, something happened that diverted me away from my regular Wednesday morning routine - a meeting. In the hustle and bustle of preparation, I left my desk in a fleeting disorganised fashion, prioritising as I felt necessary. This meant leaving the remnants of my breakfast experience on my desk. To my ultimate misfortune, I failed to even throw the paper dish in the bin.
10.01a.m. and I am returning to my seat - shit. I am one nano-second behind the cleaner - this isn't a good position to be in. The conversation went something like this:
Cleaner: "What is this?"
Me: "That's my bowl"
Cleaner: "Fucking Jesus Christ"
Me: "I'm sorry?"
Cleaner: "Filthy fucking fuckers"
Me: "Sorry, I had more than the usual coffee this morning"
Cleaner: "Fuck"
Now forgive me if I am speaking out of turn here but isn't that a little extreme? In response to the scenario I had just found myself in and to my colleague's hysterics as he sat next to me, witnessing the whole thing, trying not to throw up through too much amusement, I spoke again although more quietly this time:
Me: "Hang on...isn't that his job?"
Now some might think that this is out of order on my part, but I am done with trying to be politically correct in this uptight day and age we live in and tend to say things as I see them. FACT.
At this point, I was informed by my fellow co-workers that I should probably watch out as the death stares I received following this incident suggested that pre-meditated murder might be on the cards. I kindly asked Ben to move the axe he had as a secret santa present from his desk incase this encouraged the situation.
This isn't the first episode of this nature by any means, there are many, many more, including the time when he called his 7 year old Grandson by the C word before giving him permission to shake Ed's hand. This was only okayed because Ed wasn't a homosexual, I think his exact words were 'it's OK, he's not a faggott'. And so I have added one more person to my list of people who I vow I will never get on with (and there aren't many).
And so from this unique individual, I take from the experience of meeting him the determination to go about my work with a smile and kind word to my fellow co-worker (alright, that probably doesn't happen all the time, but I don't think they sit there worrying I am about to commit GBH).
Enjoy:
http://video.google.com.au/videosearch?hl=en&q=demon+cleaner&um=1&ie=UTF-8&sa=X&oi=video_result_group&resnum=4&ct=title#
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