July 12, 2007

"Hiya mate, how are you?"

"Fine. You?"

"Oh, Christ, don't ask."

"Well, I'm obviously going to ask, aren't I?"

"No, really... fancy a glass of wine?"

"Bear. Shit. Catholic."

"Don't know why I ask, really...."

"Yeah, well, anyway, what's up?"

*plopplopplop*

"Well, do you remember Stacey?"

"No."

"Well, you have met her."

"Oh. Was I pissed?"

"Yes."

"Well then."

"Hmm. Anyway, she works with me at XX. You know, the school we both used to attend."

"And?"

"And she's pissed off, because next year she gets her own form."

"So what's wrong with that?"

"She said: 'Why've they done that when they know I'm leaving in December?'"

"Why she's leaving?"

"To be a nanny."

"A nanny?"

"A nanny."

"Eh?"

"Hang on - get this. More wine?"

"Pope. Shit. Woods."

*plopplopplop*

"So?"

"So, her new job will involve looking after a family's kids from 3pm to 7.30pm every night."

"Is that all? How come? And what's the point?"

"Well, the other nanny looks after them in the day time."

"Other nanny? Who the fuck are they?"

"Hang on. She nannies at weekends for them already. They live [posh place not a zillion miles away from here]."

"Yeah, but, even so..."

"They've bought her a £270,000 house, with cash, and put her name on the deeds."

*eyes blink*

"And a brand new convertible Volkswagen Beetle - insured, taxed, the lot. With a petrol allowance."

*arse twtiching*

"And they'll be paying her a starting salary of £30,000. With all her bills paid, too."

"Erm, Ang?"

"Yeah."

"Is she fit?"

"No. Not at all. But her boyfriend is. The spawny pair of bastards. More wine?"

"I think I need to buy some more."

"Good idea. Do me a favour?"

"Yeah?"

"Get a couple of lottery tickets."