Ruff

Good evening, BoomDawg!

Yelled some random comedian in the office as I dashed past in a flailing blizzard of limbs and unshaven-ness.

I was late. Not just slightly late but late as fuck thanks to a teething child squalling like a proper bastard distressed little soul all night long.

I bustled over to my usual bank of desks where my workday homies were sitting.

There were no empty seats.

Bollocks.

I muttered.

Due to the fancy-dan hot-desking arrangements we have, we don't have desks we can call our own anymore. Instead we have to claim what's available. Only it looked like some awfully dressed stranger had laid claim to my seat.

He looked important so I decided not to menace him into moving.

Bollocks.

I muttered again.

One of my brohams made a sympathetic face and pointed over at a spare seat nearby in the middle of a clutch of Java developers.

I let out a deep sigh. The prospect of sitting with a bunch of Java geeks made me feel like ripping my eyes from my head and running around the room making broken chicken noises.

Oh well, there was nothing for it. Surely it couldn't be too bad?

I took the spare seat. The Java developers looked up at me with disdain. My lack of rumpled Camping/Hill-walking clothing immediately marking me as an outsider.

One of them in particular, Bum-Chief, was making a face as if I was bathing his Grandmother's innards in the jizzums.

You're not a Dev?

He sneered with all the grace of hungry walrus.

Well done, Sparky. I'm not.

Said I, flipping my laptop open with a manly panache that was probably rousing a semi in more than one of the surrounding Java bods.

I looked around at my companions for the day despairingly.

They were a hopeless looking bunch. It was like the breakfast club, only with more gimps.

I hunched down and plugged in my headphones in an attempt to ignore the geek buffoonery around me.

Remarkably the day went quickly, In no time at all it was time for lunch.

I popped out for a coffee and came back to my desk.

Bum-Chief was standing, holding court over the other developers.

And do you know what I hate the most? This fucking obsession with charity and the celebrity culture that goes with it.

I sniggered my way past him to my seat carrying my coffee and a small cardboard box.

He stopped speaking for a few seconds so he could scrunch his face up in a scowl as if seethingly jealous of my smooth skin and jocular penis.

He then continued.

I mean, people that buy into all that shit just really fuck me off. I mean...

I interrupted him from behind.

Hey Sparky!

He made a deep humphing noise and grudgingly turned around.

I was wearing my newly purchased charity red-nose.

It's red-nose Day!

He did a double take and made a noise like an over-milked cow.

Behind him, some of his gang started giggling.

I'll just set up this collection box here in the desk beside us. Eh?

Bum-Chief gave a watery unconvincing smile.

I beamed back, after a rough start, today was picking up!