The telephone call

Pete Postlethwaite, the focal point of office jest and the man rumoured to be able to whisper across three fields doesn’t adhere to the maxim that discretion is the better part of valour; but nevertheless, his indiscretion and inability to notice events surrounding him make him quite the entertainer. For a couple of weeks he has been preoccupied with the renovation to his bachelor pad, which, according to those that know him in the real-world, is in a dire need of modernisation. As the daily saga that is Pete’s conversation with Tommy the tiler – who just so happens to be working alongside a plumber that is installing a new bathroom in Pete’s semi-detached bungalow – commences, the tapping of fingers on keyboards ceases to be the dominant sound that echoes around the cavernous office. Instead the office’s attention turns to the baritone and monotonous voice of Peter, Peter the sausage eater’s conversation with Mr Tillman, to give Tommy the Tiler his real name.

Just to interrupt the reader, before continuing with the anecdote, two things need to be pointed out: the first is that Pete’s nickname relates simply to the fact that he loves the deliciously succulent taste of pork sausages, – and the second is that this is the same man that made a personal phone call to his doctor, during office hours, and of course was once again whispering at the top of his voice when he asked for Dr Death. That caused quite a commotion, especially as the police, at that time, were investigating the activities of Harold Shipman aka Doctor Death. Luckily for Pete, it turned out that he was actually asking to speak to Doctor Dev.

As the rapturous crowd tunes in to the conversation it becomes apparent that bullshit really does baffle brains, as the vexed look on Pete’s face is reminiscent of a constipated dog thrutching in a park. As Pete’s eyes glaze over it appears that he evidently isn’t as interested in tiling as Tommy the Tiler; after all who would have thought that there are so many types of tile: Ceramic tiles, Porcelain tiles, Non-Porcelain tiles, Granite tiles, Marble tiles, Limestone tiles, Tavertine tiles, and even Slate tiles. After, what seems like an eternity, but in actuality is about ten minutes, he quickly rises and disappears into the kitchen.

Once again, the tapping of fingers on keyboards pervades the air, as normal office activities resume, and the only distraction worth mentioning is the deliciously aromatic and pungent aroma of  a microwave curry meal, as Pete walks past on his way over to the sitting area; no doubt to discuss, with some unlucky git, his conversation with Mr Tillman.

About Sean

I live in my own thoughts, chat to imaginary friends, and survive primarily on Snickers and Nescafe. I work full-time and study part-time for a BA in English Literature with the OU. Home is the North West of England, and my heroes are those authors that can make miracles out of paper and words…… “The man who does not read has no advantage over the man who cannot read.” – Mark Twain.
This entry was posted in Writing and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s