Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Growing Problem - Wednesday

Reluctant team gathered around, I pause before commencing the morning meeting then ask pointedly. ‘Has anyone seen that weed by the window?
Timing is everything, in property, comedy and sex – or so I’m told. This is unfortunate, as to a man, woman and retard they all turn and look outside just as a limp-wristed-looking lad in those huge black glasses, pauses to examine the display. The poor geek spots the movement inside the office and bolts like a startled racehorse. Our image drops a notch lower in the community.

‘Not the four-eyed fool.’ I snap ungraciously, then realise T the assistant manager is looking daggers at me through his own designer-framed windows-on-the-world.
Big-bellied loan peddler M starts to chuckle voluminously and says. ‘I don’t think you can discriminate against myopically-challenged weirdos.’ He’s right of course and I’m instantly ashamed. I’m half tempted to book myself on a re-alignment course, but realise I couldn’t stand another pseudo psychology lesson from a humourless woman in a trouser-suit.

‘I didn’t mean to offend anyone with an alternative ocular viewpoint.’ I stumble awkwardly. T clearly doesn’t think it’s funny, so I move on. ‘I meant the unpleasant growth that’s been expanding daily without anyone even noticing.’
Lettings lush B catches negotiator S’s eye and the two women look at M who is oblivious to any potential slur as he’s unwrapping a chocolate bar, that I recall as an appropriately named Marathon. Of course it’s been re-branded.

The two women are giggling like schoolgirls, T is looking towards the window with a frown, idiot trainee F is gazing into space and M is now munching in an unpleasantly graphic fashion. No wonder I can’t make my year-end bonus.

With a sigh, I stand up and beckon the group to join me. A good team will follow their leader through crisis, danger and enemy fire; this lot seem reluctant to make the pavement. Eventually we stand, an absurdly diverse group, whom fate and poor educational performance has flung together, in a semi-circle, backs to the road, staring at the object of my ire.

‘What is it?’ Asks F eventually, to a soft chorus of groans.
‘I don’t know the Latin.’ I snipe. ‘But I’m pretty sure it doesn’t belong under our windowsill.’
‘Some sort of thistle?’ Asks S with a hint of a smirk.
‘Anyone care to guess how long it’s been there?’ I say exasperated. It’s a t least a week now and I’ve had to almost physically stop myself from uprooting it every day, just to prove a point. This morning I couldn’t last any longer.

‘Not that long.’ Posits T erroneously. I point out to him it might be alien to me but it’s not a Triffid. Facile diversion about John Wyndham’s novel over as nobody has heard of it, I move on.
‘Does anyone ever actually look at the window display?’ I ask, warning-off S’s signposted quip about geeks in glasses with a deep frown in her direction. ‘It’s been growing for days. Presentation is everything.’ I say, as an inner voice nags: I thought it was timing?

It’s bad enough businesses don’t mind having bin bags piled against their boundaries - even when the local authority workers aren’t taking industrial action - but having scruffy plant-life outside reminds me of when the Big Issue seller decided to set his pitch in front of our first time buyers’ display. Pointing out I already help the homeless when I moved him on, didn’t go down too well.

I realise everyone is looking at me expectantly and office workers late for first coffee are stepping round our kerbside gathering. ‘I’m just saying it’s indicative of a lack of care, an attention to detail.’ I say wearily, all fight evaporating even before the first down-valuing surveyor collects keys.

Pulling the weed up angrily was a mistake. It was definitely a thistle – and we had no plasters or antiseptic cream in the first-aid kit. The health and safety audit removed them. A potential hazard apparently.

It hurts more than I can say.


Georgie said...

What a waste! You should have put it in a posh pot with some gravel and stood it by your door; instant kerb appeal!

Anonymous said...

nominated for best estate agent blog!

secret agent said...

How kind.

jonathan davis said...

I've nominated too and I've mentioned it on (no joke.)

secret agent said...

Thank you kind Sir..