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Shorts
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| A lucky day | |
| By Nina | ||||||||||||||||
| 27 June 2006 | ||||||||||||||||
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Another posting. I would like to know what you think of this one. Moses was sitting down behind his reception desk, impeccably dressed in his security guard uniform and looking rather bored. He threw a glance at the big tatty clock, carelessly hanged on the wall opposite. It was just gone seven o’clock. ‘One more hour to go’ he encouraged himself quietly. ‘God, I really hate this poxy job.’ he sighed resentfully. It had been one of those days when, with all the glittery light smeared all over the place by a hot summer sun, everything seemed grey and worthless. He had nothing to look forward to …apart from the end of the shift, of course. He couldn’t believe that Emiola was up the duff again. Off the top of his head, he couldn’t understand how it happened. He must’ve been completely hammered, otherwise he would’ve remembered. ‘The stupid cow, I told her to be careful’ he blamed her, pissed off at the thought that she had most probably planned it all along and taken him for an idiot. ‘What is it with women and babies, eh?’ he carried on pondering ‘they con you into getting them pregnant, for few months they look dead ugly, silly fat cows one could not even consider touching … and they don’t stop nagging about this and that.’ As for Emiola, she knew that they were struggling with the three kids they already had and there was no way they could’ve afforded another one. ‘Unless I bloody win the lottery’ he grumbled, aware that that was very unlikely to happen….since he wasn’t even playing it. The appealing thought of coming in the possession of such vast sum of money got his imagination rolling and he started dreaming of what he would do with all that dosh. He would buy a nice house for Emiola and the kids. He would also send the kids to one of the best schools in the city. He would definitely spoil them rotten. And he would also get lots of designer gear and a posh car for himself…must be a convertible one with a massively loud car stereo. So he can make himself noticed along the London streets, generously letting people stare at him with envy. Yeah, that would be wicked, man! He had an image to keep and with all that money he would have no problems to do that whatsoever. And he would be probably able to get Nellie back. She gave him the boot last Saturday when she found out that he wasn’t actually a bingo club manager as he bragged off in front of her and her friends, but merely a security guard on a six pounds an hour wage. After hurling nasty verbal abuse, she chucked back at him the ‘Cartier’ watch he bought her from the Walthamstow market as a birthday present and told him to never ever come near her again. Now, that really hurt…especially since it was his face that intercepted the watch’s trajectory towards the ground and took the full impact, leaving an ugly mark on his left cheek. Still, Nellie was lovely and he desperately wanted her back. ‘You haven’t even bought a lottery ticket, you stupid git.’ he reminded himself of his still underpaid security guard status. On top of everything else, it was the third time in the last six months when his request for a pay rise had been rejected. ‘A salary increase is given on the basis of improved performance and unfortunately, in your case, there is nothing to convince me that you are entitled to one.’ his supervisor reasoned his refusal every single time. ‘Fuckin’ greedy bastard.’ Moses’ thoughts complimented him yet again. The irritating sound of a car engine struggling to park in front of the building brought him back to the stifling reality of the reception area. ‘That fuckin’ poxy ventilator’s not working again.’ the clammy collar of his shirt reminded him. He got up, rubbed his stiff behind for a second and then walked to the large window to find out who was coming. A blind buzzing fly was desperately trying to escape the overheated room through the grubby glass. ‘Flippin’ stupid fing.’ Moses whacked it down with a single strike of the newspaper held in his hand, wondering what the purpose of such worthless creature’s existence was….apart from annoying everyone. ‘I bet is that daft old goat checking up on me again.’ he thought out loud, referring to his supervisor. It wasn’t him though. He saw a smartly dressed guy getting out of the car and heading for the building’s entrance. ‘Who the shit is this? Oh man, this is all I fuckin’ need now.’ he watched the clock again. It was twenty minutes past, no long before his shift was over. He dragged himself back behind the reception desk as the guy was approaching it. ‘Good evening, Sir.’ Moses put on a polite grin ‘How can I help you?’ ‘Oh, hi there, my name is David Green and I work for Melbis, well, I am one of its directors actually. I had a meeting here this morning and I left some paperwork upstairs in the office. I’d like to go and collect it if possible.’ ‘Have you got a security pass, Sir?’ Moses asked, eyeing the guy up from head to toes, envying his classy suit and perfectly polished leather shoes. He couldn’t remember him. ‘No. I’m afraid I haven’t got one.’ ‘Then I’m afraid I can’t let you in, Sir.’ ‘Hold on, what do you mean you can’t let me in?’ the guy questioned him slightly irritated. ‘We have a special policy for out of hours visits. Unfortunately, unless you have a security pass or confirmation from our security manager, you would not be able to enter these premises, Sir.’ ‘But I told you who I am.‘ ‘I’m sorry, Sir. We are not allowed to make any concessions for anyone.’ ‘Listen, you cannot possibly stop me from going in. I own half of this building, for heaven’s sake.’ Mr Green vociferated quite angrily this time. Any other day, Moses would’ve not put up a fight, he would’ve just asked the guy to sign the visitors’ book and let him in, but this time, given his personal circumstances and the unbearable stuffy air that was filling the room, he felt like being awkward. ‘What can they do to me, eh?’ he thought ‘they can’t sack me ‘cos I ain’t done nothing wrong. And if they do then I’ll fuckin’ sue them, man, I swear I will.’ wounded up big time. ‘Fuckin’ prat!’ Moses’ mind slagged Mr Green off ‘I ain’t doing you no favours, mate!’ ‘I am sorry, Sir, I am only following the company’s procedures… all for security reasons.’ Moses’ face put on an over-polite mask. ‘I can’t believe this is happening. Do you actually realise who you’re talking to, Mister…what’s your name?’ the guy enquired, determined to make an impression. ‘I ain’t scared of you, twat face!’ Moses felt like spitting out. ‘Moses, Sir, Moses Ogunbodede.’ ‘This is absolutely ridiculous. I demand to speak to your supervisor straight away.’ the guy raised his voice. ‘I’m afraid he is not here, Sir.’ ‘Well, I will phone him then. Go on, what you’re waiting for? Give me his number….now!’ ‘Who the fuck you think you are talking to me like this, you stupid prick?’ Moses wished he could throw in the guy’s face. He kept his civil still calm appearance instead: ‘As you wish, Sir.’ Mr Green dialled on his mobile the number provided by Moses. ‘Go on, my son, give the old goat a bit of grief, he fuckin’ deserves it.’ his mind smiled with joy, completely careless of what the repercussions of such a phone call would have on himself. ‘Oh, hi there, could I possibly speak to …what is your supervisor’s name?’ he turned back at Moses. ‘Graham, Graham Walker, Sir.’ ‘Yes, Mr Graham Walker, please. This is David Green of Melbis Plc.’ ‘Hello, Mr Green. Graham speaking. What can I do for you, Sir?’ ‘Well, I am calling regarding your security guard down at Queen Anne’s Road.’ ‘Oh yeah?’ a worried Graham waited, wondering what the stupid guard could have possibly done again. ‘Mr Walker…’ ‘Go on, spit it out, you fuckin’ bastard.’ Moses was waiting impatiently. ‘Mr Walker, I have no other choice than congratulate you. You have employed here one of the best security officers I have ever come across. Very professional, very efficient, with people like him I know we should have no concerns regarding the security of our buildings at all…please accept my full recommendations….’ Moses was staring at him, stunned. ‘What the fuck’s this silly bullocks playing at? Is it nuts or what?’ he mumbled, found it hard to believe what his ears were listening to. ‘Oh well, this might turn out to be not such a bad day in the end, eh?’ a cheerful smirk started expanding on his face.
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