Iron dash! (Disabled Toilets Part III)

I realised at 12.30pm today that I’d left the iron on in the flat and had to make a mad dash home on my lunch in order to prevent the house from burning down.
I’m going to decline from telling Lisa this as it won’t help anyone, though I’m sure that once I’ve had a drink, I’ll ‘fess up.

My brother’s coming to town for a weekend of festivities which ought to be good!

I’m also in a pleasant mood as before the Iron dash- I was in the office kitchen making a round of drinks when The Big Boss came in. I smiled polietlly at him, and he grunted some form of ackowledgement at me.

This was weird. I’d never seen him in the kitchen ever before, I assumed being so bleedin’ high and mighty this form of domestic duty would be left to one of his two P.A’s, yet low and behold there he was.

He walked straight over to our fridge (there are several- each for a different Department) and took out the two remaining cream cakes that I had bought on Tuesday.

He turned to me and smiled polietly.
“I’ve had my eye on these for the past few days” He boasted.
“Help yourself” I said nervously.
He looked stunned.
“Are they yours?”
“Yeah, I bought them on Tuesday, take both if you like, they’ll only get binned by the cleaners if not”
He beamed a smile of gratitude my way.
“what a break” I thought to myself
“Cheers- I’ll have one now and t’other later”.
He looked genuinely chuffed. Perhaps it was guilt that he’d been busted, either way it couldn’t do my career prospects any harm.

As I made the seven teas/coffees for my team, he leaned against a work surface slowly eating the strawberry and cream tart. He snoted whilst he ate. I finished and carried the tray of piping hot beverages towards the door. As I was doing so two colleagues from a different department came in mid conversation and held the door open for me. Their timing was impeccable as if a corny sit-com writing had engineered such a perfect moment of coincendence.

“….yeah but the toilets bloody stink. It’s f**king disgusting”
“tell me about it- that’s why we all use the disbaled toilets”

I heard a strawberry get lodged in his throat as the door swung shut behind me and beat a hasty retreat. I could hear muffled shouting through the walls and sniggered to myself.