There may be fifty ways to leave your lover (and only one way to exit a Kulula.com aircraft), but there are at least a thousand ways to piss me off first thing in the morning. Here is the latest in the series:
Scene: An office. KYKNOORD, seated at a paper-covered desk, is muttering angrily to himself as he attempts to proofread the most incoherent report the entire world.
ANNOYING COLLEAGUE: [Enters stage right and parks his enormous backside on the corner of KYKNOORD’s desk, precipitating a minor avalanche of files] Do you remember that project we did out in Gatlaagte in the ‘nineties?
KYKNOORD: Vaguely. Why?
ANNOYING COLLEAGUE: Ja well, Mr Skaapsteker from the council phoned and there’s a big problem with the rising main in Kleinballes Street. What was the design flow for that pipe?
KYKNOORD: How the fuck do you expect me to remember a detail like that? I mean, seriously?
ANNOYING COLLEAGUE: [Looks puzzled and hurt. Pouts a little. Splutters impotently for a few seconds]: B-b-but I thought…
And thus begins a lengthy and frustrating conversation which essentially hinges on the fact that my colleague can’t quite fathom why I don’t have total recall of events that took place when people under twenty still bought Madonna CDs.
Obviously my reputation as the organic answer to Google is spreading.