Let's take a walk.
El-Jefe tapped me on the shoulder and wobbled on past, looking like someone had sewn five porky pigs together to make a gigantic Frankenpig.
I looked around at the folk sitting near me. They all studiously avoided my eye as if I was wearing a tie-dyed shirt.
Come on?
El-Jefe's voice was tinged with impatience as he got to the emergency fire staircase. Disregarding the This door is alarmed sign, he shoved it and held it open whilst waving me in.
I frowned. what the mother of fucks was going on here? Had I finally been found out? Was I to be thrown down the stairs and dumped in the rubbish bins out the back lane?
It seemed a little harsh for having coasted in my job for the last ten years but they do say that shit catches up with you. Whacking me in the stairwell struck me as a bit over the top though.
Reluctantly, I heaved myself to my feet and padded toward El-Jefe.
He beckoned me with an irritated flip of one of his podgy hands. His new, unironed, straight from the packet shirt made him look like a witchetty grub poking out of a pillowcase.
I rolled my shoulders as I approached, ready to chop him right in the fucking neck at the slightest hint of aggression.
source: https://www.canesbarandgrill.com/witchetty-grub/
Fuck sake, Boom-Dawg, could you walk any slower? Come on, we have places to go...
El-Jefe headed off down the fire stairs which given his girth meant that his descent resembled a beanbag made of meat banging around in a tumble drier.
I sighed and entered the stairwell, hands ready for anything.
We travelled all the way down the stairs in silence. Or at least, relative silence as El-Jefe puffed and wheezed down the last flight or two.
At the bottom we exited into a side street, startling several smokers and vapers who fluttered away cawing and squawking indignantly at the interruption.
One of the vapers left behind a gigantic exhalation of something almost strawberry and not for the first time I thought it might be nice to hook up with a lady vaper.
In the past, I had always found girls who smoked were much wetter on the inside than those who didn't and checking out that this held for vapers was surely valuable research that the Good Lady could hardly deny.
El Jefe made a barking noise and tipped his head down the street, gesturing me to stay close.
Fuck sake.
Again, I trailed after him.
Finally, we stopped outside a building site. The clanging of metal almost drowned out the sweary shouts of the Polish builders stomping around in hi-vis vests and yellow boots.
This is it, Boomer. This is going to be our new office.
El-Jefe flapped one of his bingo-wings in the direction of the skeletal structure poking up from the earth.
Ah, right. Very good.
I tried to be enthused but I have never been one to get excited about building sites.
But that's not why I bought you here. See that bit up there? The sixth floor, in the corner. That will be our office.
He folded his arms and looked smug.
Our office?
I was slightly baffled. We were an open-plan crew. Nobody had their own office. Was he mistaken?
Yes, ours. Just ours. Me and you will be sharing an office!
El-Jefe clapped his hands together as Gordon Ramsay does after shouting at someone.
I made a face as if I could smell someone burning pigs teeth.
Ewww. What, just me and you? Like lovers?
I stepped back shaking my head.
Like lo... like what?! No, what do you mean like lovers?! What? That's fucking weird?
It was El-Jefe's turn to step back and glare at me in disgust.
Weird? You're the one suggesting it?!
I didn't suggest any such thing!
El-Jefe stomped his foot and grumbled mightily.
Sometimes I don't know what goes on in your head. Come, let's get back.
He huffed and grumpily turned, starting the trek back to the office we didn't share.
I smirked.
Coming darling.