How are you finding it?
A slimy something hissed into my ear.
I gritted my teeth and forced my gaze to stay straight ahead at my screen, which displayed a number of colour-clashing bar charts that rose and fell in no apparent order and was frankly giving me the boak.
You enjoying it?
The slimy voice continued as if it had its lad in its hand ready to do the business.
I stopped moving my mouse about randomly and turned round to confront the odious felon whispering in my ear as if it were a pork trumpet they wished to parp.
It was El-Jefe. My boss. I hadn't seen him for over a fortnight due to my holidays and if anything could be said it looked like he had put on even more weight than normal. He was like a hungry black hole but an oily moist one that only cared about pies and cakes and wearing brown trousers.
No, I am not fucking enjoying it. I hate this shit with a passion.
I stared him down hoping that my stern words wouldn't rouse the Heffalump into a semi.The last thing I needed on my return to work was him attempting a surreptitious dry hump of my leg.
Och away, you loves it!
He grinned like a Gollum who has just discovered Cheesy Taters.
I fucking don't. I am planning my escape if you must know.
I gave my mouse a casual flick to expose the real spreadsheet underneath all the nonsense ones that I displayed on my screen to fool the management into thinking I was some kind of hotshot.
The real spreadsheet was a plain one with just a few columns and rows. It was my plan of paying off the man and getting out of the rat race.
What?! Escape? There is no escape!?
El-Jefe spluttered as if Miley Cyrus had just swung past him on a Canonball.
No escape? Put a fence in front of me, hombre and I will climb it.
I smiled in my best I have the upper hand and you aren't really my boss kind of way. Even though he really was and I was tired and jaded with life after having to return to work after two glorious weeks off.
Well, I think you loves it here. You can't get enough, eh... eh!
El-Jefe at this point made some kind of weird hip thrust as if he were both trying to giddy-up a horse and conduct an orchestra at the same time.
Boss man, if I didn't have kids and a mortgage hanging around my neck like a fucking albatross I would be out of here like a shot.
For a moment I saw myself, sailing on the high seas with a rakishly thin moustache and a bandana swishing a sword that loved a good buckling of the swash when confronted by my many pirate enemies.
Oceans of blood...
I murmured dreamily.
What did you say?
El-Jefe looked discomfited as if his pannacotta was failing to wobble.
Nothing.
I sighed and turned back to my bar charts with a dejected slump of my shoulder.
There's bonuses going around you know...
El-Jefe whispered surreptitiously.
The only thing is, you would have to sign a waiver that you would stay for a year or pay it all back...
There was a caustic note of triumph buried in the grease of his tone.
I stayed perfectly still and said nothing.
El-Jefe prowled around me blobbily like a big fat wolf that has eaten a beachball.
You interested? Shall I put your name down?
He stopped beside me, his jaws open ready for the kill.
I rolled my eyes until only the whites were visible and not for the first time cursed the prostitutery that just have been in my ancestry.
Aye, go on then.
El-Jefe made a strange fluting noise of victory and flumped off.
I groaned heavily. Fucking hell, he was right. There is no escape.
