A Wake-Up Call
Does anyone else have strange dreams when they are on holiday? Mine have involved various Â鶹¹ÙÍøÊ×Ò³Èë¿Ú senior managers and their paid henchmen. One of them chased me through the streets of Inverness and threatened to steal my car if I slept through any more Powerpoint presentations. Mrs. Z takes a dim view of these duvet-ruffling night terrors and cites it as proof that I have not stopped thinking about work. So today she banned me from listening to Â鶹¹ÙÍøÊ×Ò³Èë¿Ú Radio Scotland and set me the task of assembling a chest of drawers from IKEA.
I love the instruction booklets you get with self-assembly furniture. It’s all explained in little cartoons. I especially like the cartoon on page 2 which shows a confused customer opening his carton of woodchip planks and then phoning the store for advice on what the heck to do next. I spent a good half hour fantasising about what would happen if you actually made such a call.
ME: Hello…is that the helpine?
HELPLINE GIRL: Yes…but I told you never to call me here.
ME: What?
HELPLINE GIRL: Sorry…I thought you were someone else. Do you have a problem with our self-assembly furniture or have you eaten too many meatballs?
ME: It’s the furniture…I’ve just opened the box and there’s a big problem.
HELPLINE GIRL: Don’t tell me…you’re no good with a screwdriver?
ME: No, it’s not that…I’m sure I could put these drawers together eventually…I mean it might take me half a day and I’d probably have to get a hacksaw to cut off those screws that I forced in at a funny angle.
HELPLINE GIRL: I’m not sure I see what you’re getting at.
ME: It’s just that the whole exercise seems futile. Life is too short for this kind of thing. I should be out experiencing the joys of nature or enjoying stimulating conversation with an old friend
HELPLINE GIRL: I’m sorry but we’re not authorised to offer existential advice.
ME: Fair enough. In that case, can you send me some free meatballs?
HELPLINE: I knew it was you! I told you never to call me here.
