fish are very calming and pretty,” I soothe her. “And I—”
“Yes, yes, but don’t you see? It’s the first step on the slippery slope to—to— staid coupledom,” Carmen leaps right back in. “I mean, it’s a commitment .”
“Carmen, it’s only fish.” I think she’s overreacting just a bit.
“Yes, but you know what it means, don’t you?”
And I’m trying—I’m really trying…
“Um—don’t forget the fish food with the weekly shopping?”
“It means we’re tied to the house. How can we go on a bloody minibreak, or vacation, when we have— dependents. ”
“This is why you have friends,” I tell her, keeping my tone smooth and soothing. I know she likes to think of herself as a bit of a free spirit, but taking care of fish isn’t exactly rocket science, is it? “It’s simple,” I add. “You book a minibreak, then you ask me to drop by your house and feed your fish while you’re away. Problem solved.”
There is a long silence as she absorbs my words.
“God, I’m sorry, Rosie,” she sighs. “I know I can be a selfish bitch sometimes. You’re right. Thanks for the reality check. How are you? ”
“Oh, you know, fine,” I lie, my voice trembling just a bit.
“Well, don’t think about Jonathan,” Carmen commands me. “Think about hot doctors instead. Oh, gotta go, a customer just came in.”
And that, my friends, is the crux of the matter. See, in between thinking about Jonathan, my mind keeps wandering back to Piccadilly Circus…
I blame Christmas.
See, it’s a traditionally quiet time in the employment agency field, even for an agency like Charlie’s and mine, which supplies staff for some of the oddest jobs you canthink of. Normal people are just too busy going to parties, or shopping, or generally having too much festive fun to think about changing jobs.
With one or two exceptions to the rule…
I mean, we did have a flurry of last-minute requests last week from department stores and various other organizations for Santas, elves and fairies, but we’d already anticipated seasonal demand and had several of our regulars lined up, just in case.
Also, Charlie’s been up to his neck in the final preparations for various drag acts he’s arranged for Christmas extravaganzas, and is currently in a Hammersmith gay bar soothing ruffled Karmic Kitty egos.
Apparently, Kitty Princess Cherrie of the group Queen KiKi and the Karmic Kitty Princesses (otherwise known as Nigel from Clapham) is convinced that his version of “I Will Survive” is far superior to that of Kitty Princess Jancie’s and wants to switch.
Kitty Princess Jancie (John from Leeds) is not happy about a last-minute rearrangement, nor does he want to perform Kitty Princess Cherrie’s “I Am Who I Am,” because he hasn’t got the right costume for that particular number, and everyone knows you shouldn’t mess with costume karma.
This is further complicated by the fact that Queen KiKi (Lionel from Brighton) has decided that as he is the main star of the act he should have special privileges and has demanded a separate dressing room in the tiny backstage area of the Hammersmith pub, plus free drinks from the bar.
And if he doesn’t get his dressing room and free drinks, his headache will turn into a migraine, and possibly a brain tumor, and he will therefore be unable to perform.
That’s Charlie’s field, thank God. He arranges drag acts or other performance-related acts for companies, conferences and private functions.
My personal favorite has got to be the increasingly popular Japanese-style boot camps. We provide professional shouters. People with loud voices to insult their senior managers or students to encourage better performance—can you imagine being paid to yell at people? I may volunteer my own services next time…
But back to the point. See, because it’s Christmas, things are just too quiet, and it gives me too much time to brood.
Oh, telephone again. I grab for it,
“Yes, yes, but don’t you see? It’s the first step on the slippery slope to—to— staid coupledom,” Carmen leaps right back in. “I mean, it’s a commitment .”
“Carmen, it’s only fish.” I think she’s overreacting just a bit.
“Yes, but you know what it means, don’t you?”
And I’m trying—I’m really trying…
“Um—don’t forget the fish food with the weekly shopping?”
“It means we’re tied to the house. How can we go on a bloody minibreak, or vacation, when we have— dependents. ”
“This is why you have friends,” I tell her, keeping my tone smooth and soothing. I know she likes to think of herself as a bit of a free spirit, but taking care of fish isn’t exactly rocket science, is it? “It’s simple,” I add. “You book a minibreak, then you ask me to drop by your house and feed your fish while you’re away. Problem solved.”
There is a long silence as she absorbs my words.
“God, I’m sorry, Rosie,” she sighs. “I know I can be a selfish bitch sometimes. You’re right. Thanks for the reality check. How are you? ”
“Oh, you know, fine,” I lie, my voice trembling just a bit.
“Well, don’t think about Jonathan,” Carmen commands me. “Think about hot doctors instead. Oh, gotta go, a customer just came in.”
And that, my friends, is the crux of the matter. See, in between thinking about Jonathan, my mind keeps wandering back to Piccadilly Circus…
I blame Christmas.
See, it’s a traditionally quiet time in the employment agency field, even for an agency like Charlie’s and mine, which supplies staff for some of the oddest jobs you canthink of. Normal people are just too busy going to parties, or shopping, or generally having too much festive fun to think about changing jobs.
With one or two exceptions to the rule…
I mean, we did have a flurry of last-minute requests last week from department stores and various other organizations for Santas, elves and fairies, but we’d already anticipated seasonal demand and had several of our regulars lined up, just in case.
Also, Charlie’s been up to his neck in the final preparations for various drag acts he’s arranged for Christmas extravaganzas, and is currently in a Hammersmith gay bar soothing ruffled Karmic Kitty egos.
Apparently, Kitty Princess Cherrie of the group Queen KiKi and the Karmic Kitty Princesses (otherwise known as Nigel from Clapham) is convinced that his version of “I Will Survive” is far superior to that of Kitty Princess Jancie’s and wants to switch.
Kitty Princess Jancie (John from Leeds) is not happy about a last-minute rearrangement, nor does he want to perform Kitty Princess Cherrie’s “I Am Who I Am,” because he hasn’t got the right costume for that particular number, and everyone knows you shouldn’t mess with costume karma.
This is further complicated by the fact that Queen KiKi (Lionel from Brighton) has decided that as he is the main star of the act he should have special privileges and has demanded a separate dressing room in the tiny backstage area of the Hammersmith pub, plus free drinks from the bar.
And if he doesn’t get his dressing room and free drinks, his headache will turn into a migraine, and possibly a brain tumor, and he will therefore be unable to perform.
That’s Charlie’s field, thank God. He arranges drag acts or other performance-related acts for companies, conferences and private functions.
My personal favorite has got to be the increasingly popular Japanese-style boot camps. We provide professional shouters. People with loud voices to insult their senior managers or students to encourage better performance—can you imagine being paid to yell at people? I may volunteer my own services next time…
But back to the point. See, because it’s Christmas, things are just too quiet, and it gives me too much time to brood.
Oh, telephone again. I grab for it,
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