At my last agency I sat opposite
a girl who became known as ‘The Picker’.
We called her this because she
regularly picked her nose and her face. Ewwww!
Now even though I sat opposite
her, I actually only saw this happen once, but my colleagues noticed it far
more regularly and used to hyperventilate in horror each time it happened.
She also used to take off her
shoes and walk around in bare feet. Not
cool in an open plan office.
She was English – maybe that had
something to do with it? (although, I was engaged to an Englishman once and he
was very clean).
One day, The Picker (who had been
on maternity leave) came into the office with her new baby for our kids’
Christmas party.
As the champagne bell rang, we
naturally stampeded downstairs. I was
hot on the heels of The Picker - who managed quite a pace even while carrying
baby-picker.
So fast was she, that she didn’t
actually notice that a colostrum-soaked breast pad had fallen out of her bra
and onto the floor… right under my foot!
Awkward…
For me… not for
her.
In a gesture of pure sisterhood,
I leant down and picked up the pad and disposed of it in one of the Gen Y-er’s
bins (he heee!).
Before she went on maternity
leave, I lent The Picker a book – Still Alice, about a woman with Alzheimers. She has clearly forgotten to return it to me
(…do I need to point out the irony?).
It actually wasn’t my book in the
first place – it’s my sister-in-laws and she’s probably wondering what’s
happened to it.
I think I might just buy my
sister-in-law a new one.
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