So once i'd finished stamping my foot i gave The Agency a little tinkle. The following conversation ensued:
Me: Hi Agency Lady.
AL: Hi You.
Me: If you don't find someone to replace me IMMEDIATELY i swear to god i will leave this psychotic bitch first thing in the morning and let her get her own f*cking bran flakes (with only a little bit of milk, can't have them doing backstroke in it now).
AL: Ok we'll scurry around and cater to your polite request.
(3 hours pass - i have tried calling AL twice in those painful hours) Ring Ring
AL: Hello You
Me: So?
AL: We are flying a replacement wrangler in from Spain.
Me: It's a bout bloody t... SPAIN?
AL: Yes.
Me: My god i rock. I mean you do. Thank you Agency Lady. Your job is safe for another day. That will be all. Now go away.
After several hours and a brief "Hola" rapidly followed by "Adios y buena suerte, este mujer es una puta loca", I flounced out of the house, nose in the air, waving goodbye to 500 odd pounds which i'd just flushed down the toilet (metaphorically of course) and caught the fastest South West Train to London, still cursing like Joeleen (Tsow-Leeeen!), the resident Buitengracht street bergie.
12 February 2007
A Lesson In Global Domination, TGW Style.
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4 comments:
Well yes. At least you have your sanit... um... at least you have my nomination in in the SA Blog Awards.
Does that mean that everyone in the Kingdom had already fled away screaming?
Yo! You're in London!! We should hook up. I would offer you a bed, but my flatmate took it. And I think you've had enough of old ladies
Kyknoord: *Mwah* *Mwah*
Anne: If you listen very carefully you can still the blood curdling screams carried on the wind.
Insano: Methinks 'tis a grand idea! Mail me...
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