(no subject)
Mystery can be found anywhere. Work was very, very boring. I was rooting through a little cupboard looking for some polish which I could use to at least LOOK busy when - taped to the floor of the cupboard: a tiny tiny computer printout which read:
"Steak. Liver. Liver. Bacon. Chops. Steak."
What?
Was somebody rehearsing for a play? Had they left prompts in the workplace so that they could work AND practice their lines? Or, perhaps whoever placed this little message was putting on a dinner part for a group of fussy carnivores. The seating plan was memorised, so it was simply a case of remembering who wanted what dish sequentially. Oh the mind boggles. It's good to know, though, that one can find something unexplained, mysterious and interesting even in an environment as soullessly sterile and corporate as the suffocating Alpha Retail outlet of Terminal 3.
Christmas was wonderful. New Year's Eve was a blast, but the subsequent hangover certainly was NOT. However, I only had to work for half the day. Life is good. More time must be spent in the company of the French.
Already things this year are interesting. I'm to put on some form of performance in Sheffield on the evening of Friday 13th March with a Mr. Anthony Richardson. Think of a cross between Fluxus and Burroughs. He wants to perfect the art by putting on two "intimate gigs" in some small reading rooms somewhere on campus. Watch this space!
I think I will be taking Contemporary Fiction this year. Oh yes.
"Steak. Liver. Liver. Bacon. Chops. Steak."
What?
Was somebody rehearsing for a play? Had they left prompts in the workplace so that they could work AND practice their lines? Or, perhaps whoever placed this little message was putting on a dinner part for a group of fussy carnivores. The seating plan was memorised, so it was simply a case of remembering who wanted what dish sequentially. Oh the mind boggles. It's good to know, though, that one can find something unexplained, mysterious and interesting even in an environment as soullessly sterile and corporate as the suffocating Alpha Retail outlet of Terminal 3.
Christmas was wonderful. New Year's Eve was a blast, but the subsequent hangover certainly was NOT. However, I only had to work for half the day. Life is good. More time must be spent in the company of the French.
Already things this year are interesting. I'm to put on some form of performance in Sheffield on the evening of Friday 13th March with a Mr. Anthony Richardson. Think of a cross between Fluxus and Burroughs. He wants to perfect the art by putting on two "intimate gigs" in some small reading rooms somewhere on campus. Watch this space!
I think I will be taking Contemporary Fiction this year. Oh yes.