When Is A Honeymoon Not A Honeymoon (Part Fourteen)

With a heavy heart I made my way into work that night, having resigned myself to flat-hunting instead of a return sunshine trip to Turkey. With my sister’s words ringing in my ears, I set about changing into my uniform and went to collect my trolley from the housekeeping cupboard.

Even my favourite security guard, Reg, couldn’t make me smile when he handed over my walkie-talkie. And to top it all, my best friend Carla had delivered the news that Sharon (aka the other woman) was pregnant; I wondered briefly whether she had been impregnated by an alien or Serial Shagging Simon, although frankly there was very little difference. I had felt for many years that Simon was in fact, the adult child of alien invaders.

“What’s up with you love? You look like you’ve found a penny and lost a pound. Talking of which, it’s not Poison Pen again is it?”

“No Reg, it’s not the Evil Queen today but to be fair the night is young and I have forgotten my garlic and holy water”.

A tanoy message alerted me of a spillage in aisle five so I told Reg, that as they were playing my song, we’d have to catch up later.

As I made my way to aisle five, I greeted a few of my work mates en route; Poison Pen had ensured that I had been kept busy with the hygiene crew and as I did a fairly solitary job, I had missed the interaction with my old colleagues. After agreeing to meet up with them after my shift finished for a McDonald’s breakfast, I hurried off.

Disappointingly, my boss Poison Pen was already waiting for me. “You took your time” she said accusingly.

“Sorry Pen, this trolley seems to have a life of its’ own; doesn’t like being separated from its friends”.

As I gazed around aisle five, it looked like something from a horror film. A pallet of boxes of bolognaise sauce had exploded all over the floor and we were nearly ankle-deep in crimson sauce and broken glass. I could have wept.

“Shouldn’t take you too long; make sure you get it all” the Evil Queen said over her shoulder as she left in search of someone else to torment.

I spent the next few hours, mopping, sweeping, scrubbing and when I had finished I had no doubt that it would take a few days for the red stain to disappear from my hands. Just as I was clearing away the last of the debris, Pen arrived to check on my progress “If you’re waiting for me to tell you, you’ve done a good job ………” she sneered.

“It’s okay Pen, a pat on the back after all is just inches away from being a kick in the pants”.

“I don’t get you! What exactly is it that you want out of life”?

“You mean apart from a pair of Christian Louboutins and worldwide domination”?

“Quite the little joker, aren’t you”?

“Well let’s be honest Pen, neither of us were recruited for our dispositions. In addition to this I work 40 hours a week to be this poor but as my application for the Apprentice seems to have gone astray, guess I’ll just have to stay here saving the world from spillages, unsightly stains and odours”.

In true superhero style I ended with “chaos, panic and disorder, my work here is done” and turned on my heel and pushed my trolley away in search of another hygiene breech.

As I left the Smiling Assassin glaring after me, I kept uttering my newly acquired mantra “I have to get out of here”.

35 thoughts on “When Is A Honeymoon Not A Honeymoon (Part Fourteen)

  1. Oh, yes, you must get out of there! But, think of all the fodder for your blog you will miss, and making your bloggers friends giggle? Oh, well, I’m sure you will find the “funny” wherever you are! – Kaye


  2. I HAVE to get back to work and stop here for now!! Great stories, I never thought the Ahmet you first introduced might be the one you’re currently married to. We just never know what life has in store for us, and I love that.


  3. So you really have lived “Clean up on Aisle 5!!”
    I would have let old pen clean it up; you’re a *star*…
    Sherri-Ellen & Nylablue
    (she asked if any tuna-tuna got spilled, lol..)


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