Sorry to keep you waiting

It seems like ages since I last wrote and that's because it is! Sorry! The TV job ended after a couple of weeks and then I decided I was fucked off with starting a new job every two fucking minutes so I went on holiday. And it was great.

But now I am back, a week and a half into one of my worst assignments yet. I'm receptionist at a film editing firm- well I say reception, I feel like I'm sitting in an upright coffin- with no daylight or view to the outside world and very dodgy internet access. No sooner am I halfway through eBaying handbags or paying my electricity bill than connection will drop and I'll be sitting staring at the screen with a look of horror on my face.

My phonecalls are from media types agreeing to come to screenings on the screening rooms or sales calls. I'm not that busy to be honest, unless there's a screening on and I have to point people in the right direction. It's dull, dull, dull and there's nothing remotely interesting or funny about it. None of the people who work want to be disturbed EVER so the most fun I've been having involves getting calls from sales people. It goes a little something like this.

Me (bored): Hello (company name)
Sales Loser (very enthusiastic): Hello there, my name is Big Fat Fucking Loser from Dicko Ltd. Can I speak to the person in charge of technical innovation please?
Me (almost asleep but recognising sales patter): The what?
SL: Can I speak to the person in charge of technical innovation please?
Me: Do you mean the person who buys new equipment?
SL: That's right!
Me: You selling something?
SL (lying): Absolutely not. I do have an exciting proposition for the person in charge of technical innovation, which will change the way you do business.
Me: Hold please. (files nails, attempts to log on to eBay, time passes, civilisations are founded and fall)
Me (putting on low, droning voice): Bill speaking.
SL: Hi! Are you the person in charge of technical innovation?
Me (putting on low, droning voice): The what?
SL (enthusiasm dwindling somewhat): Can I speak to the person in charge of technical innovation please?
Me (putting on low, droning voice): Do you mean the person who buys new equipment?
SL (more dejectedly): That's right!
Me (putting on low, droning voice): Hold please.

And so on. Sometimes for ages. I like inventing odd names for each and every person the poor fucker has to speak to. I do it around four or five times until the sales guy finally guesses he's been had or loses the will to live. I had no idea I was so good at impressions.

Nothing else interesting has happened here except that there was a buzz at the door yesterday and when I looked at the videocom to see who it was saw a transvestite being sick in the doorway, her head slammed against the buzzer as she vacated her colon all over the door. It was 1 in the afternoon- don't you just love Soho?