I suppose I could be wide of the mark. So if you really do want rid of her, I have a theory. With the same enerring instinct that tells me that men who wear coloured reading glasses are paedophiles, I can also tell quite plainly that Brenda is a sexual deviant. The nature of her peccadillo is less self-evident, but a damn good rummage through her computer files may reveal a surprise or two. Failing that, just engage in a little creative browsing to fill her history with some ‘colour and interest’. http://www.freerosemarywest.co.uk and http://www.horsesforcorsets.com ought to do the trick.

Best of British.

“The red line is Brenda’s path. The woman is a fucking Tron light cycle. There isn’t a single curve in her walking pattern, and she will not tolerate talk of 45 degrees.”

Wonderful!

I used to work in the Facilities department where the staff sound like they were infinitely more pleasant, apart from the manager who looks like a shorter, less chivalrous version of Alan Sugar had he been in the Three Musketeers. I believe he’s called Richard and I also believe, with all my heart, that he’s a cunt.

Here is how she thinks:

Val has made a comment I condescended to listen to without interrupting or just plain speaking over in a just-a-bit-too-loud voice. Peter is smiling at the comment. It is therefore funny. If I were not an unfeeling robot, I should laugh at this. Activate pretend laugh now. Cue dry, rasping pretend laugh.

Today she arrived proudly bearing a C.D. of British garden birdsongs. She has put it on loop on her computer. I am now being forced to listen to the birdsong of British garden birds, the 80 most common in the country. This includes crows, and, presumably, ravens. Ravens. Dreadful in their magnificence. Come soon ravens! Come as though bidden by your robot brethren to surround her desk and PLUCK OUT HER EYES!