Lindsay Shits
You know Lindsay, the one that’s physically alluring and looks like a blonde Snow White with a softer face? Well, did I tell you she shits?
She shits?
Did I not tell you? She looks like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, but she goes out all night, see, and drinks, and takes substances, and then comes straight to work from a nightclub and shits. You can smell it downstairs. I don’t think she flushes. Once, there was shit up the back of the lid. Today was the last straw because it stunk in there apparently. So Clive sent a memo to the effect that could everyone please ensure that they flush the toilet after use. Only he put ‘ensue’. What does ‘ensue’ mean?
Well it means it follows, it occurs.
Could you please follow that you flush the loo. Well, anyway. It just shows what you can get away with, with looks like that. The other day apparently she stank of alcohol, but nobody mentioned anything. And it’s not like she’s brilliant with the customers because she isn’t. She cuts them dead. And she’s rude. But she gets away with it because she looks like a blonde Snow White and she wears those playboy belts and tight little black trousers.
Oh, I know the one. I saw her when I picked you up. She is extremely attractive. She’s almost flawless.
Well, I wouldn’t say that.
I would. She certainly turns heads. And the way she moves? She moves like the soft uncoiling of willow branches. It’s strange to think of her shitting, I must say. Someone of that luminescence, like a flower. A yellow rose. You never see a rose shitting, do you? But then we know that flowers, when they rot, smell worse than weeds.
Clive fancies the pants off her, that’s all I know. She does a five minute job and gets an hour’s tuition for it. I do a three week job and I get five minutes. If that.
Dualism. She is the portrait of nature’s terrible dichotomy. Flushing the toilet would remind Lindsay that she is not immortal, and will one day die, like everything else.
I doubt she knows what ‘ensue’ means. I’ll have to put a sign up.
Page(s) 32
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