I was in a happy when I left work today. I had every minute of my afternoon planned; grocery shopping, a walk with the hairy dogs and a nice coffee and feet up for thirty minutes before wine time with Scotto at 6:30pm.
As I hurtled along the motorway at breath-taking speed on my way to Pinky Palace, I heard my phone ring.
“Poinker!” yelled a voice transmitting through the blue tooth device in my car. I recognised it immediately. It was my arch nemesis Rachael, ringing from the school staff room.
“Where’s your wallet, Pinky?” she said. I detected mischief in her tone.
“In my bag, Rachael. Why? Where else would it be?”
I replied, wondering what the hell she was up to this time.
“No, it’s not,” she said primly. “It’s here in your pigeon hole.”
I fished around my bag in disbelief. There was no wallet.
“FUDGE!” I yelled at the dashboard. “What the fudge? Now I’m going to have to drive all the fudging way back to the fudging, fudge-wit school to come and get my fudging, stupid wallet. For fudge’s sake! That’s all I fudging need at this fudging moment!”
There was silence on the other end of the line. For a fleeting, sickening second, the thought that perhaps the staff room phone was on speakerphone flashed through my head.
I could picture in my mind’s eye our conservative school chaplain and even-tempered principal, sitting down together sipping on a nice cup of tea, listening in appalled shock at Pinky going off her ‘fudging’ nut.
“No, it’s not,” she said primly. “It’s here in your pigeon hole.”
I fished around my bag in disbelief. There was no wallet.
“FUDGE!” I yelled at the dashboard. “What the fudge? Now I’m going to have to drive all the fudging way back to the fudging, fudge-wit school to come and get my fudging, stupid wallet. For fudge’s sake! That’s all I fudging need at this fudging moment!”
There was silence on the other end of the line. For a fleeting, sickening second, the thought that perhaps the staff room phone was on speakerphone flashed through my head.
I could picture in my mind’s eye our conservative school chaplain and even-tempered principal, sitting down together sipping on a nice cup of tea, listening in appalled shock at Pinky going off her ‘fudging’ nut.
You see, I didn't really use the word fudge. I used a much more satisfying word. A word that inexplicably cuts through pain and frustration.
I really shouldn’t swear as much as I do. It’s crass according to my mother. The language of the ignorant according to my father.
'I’ll stop from now on,' I thought. 'I’ve learnt my lesson. I’ll use better word choices.'
“Are you there, Rach?” I squawked like a frightened bird.
“Yes.” she answered.
('Phew,' I thought. Seemed we weren’t on speakerphone after all.)
“Are you sure it’s my purse? Mine’s black and white. Is that one black and white?”
“Yes, it certainly appears to be, Pinky.” she pipped.
“Eeurghhhh! Fudgity fudge, fudge fudge!”
“But… guess what, Pinky?” Rachel interrupted my profanity. “Megan’s g…….”
The line seemed to cut out, crackled a bit and went completely silent.
“Hello! Hello! Megan’s what????” I screeched. “Rachael! Answer me! Rachael!”
The line miraculously came back.
“Megan’s going to drop it off to you on her way home. She lives around the corner from you.”
“Thank the fudge for that!” I breathed a sigh of relief. “Tell her I fudging love her. She's fudging brilliant!”
The reason my wallet was discovered on the staff room floor in the first place was because I was paying Lee-lee back the six bucks I owed her for a blue shirt. Tomorrow is the National Book Week parade at school and a bunch of us teachers are dressing up as the same characters.
We have blue shirts, white pants, shoes and caps.
I really shouldn’t swear as much as I do. It’s crass according to my mother. The language of the ignorant according to my father.
'I’ll stop from now on,' I thought. 'I’ve learnt my lesson. I’ll use better word choices.'
“Are you there, Rach?” I squawked like a frightened bird.
“Yes.” she answered.
('Phew,' I thought. Seemed we weren’t on speakerphone after all.)
“Are you sure it’s my purse? Mine’s black and white. Is that one black and white?”
“Yes, it certainly appears to be, Pinky.” she pipped.
“Eeurghhhh! Fudgity fudge, fudge fudge!”
“But… guess what, Pinky?” Rachel interrupted my profanity. “Megan’s g…….”
The line seemed to cut out, crackled a bit and went completely silent.
“Hello! Hello! Megan’s what????” I screeched. “Rachael! Answer me! Rachael!”
The line miraculously came back.
“Megan’s going to drop it off to you on her way home. She lives around the corner from you.”
“Thank the fudge for that!” I breathed a sigh of relief. “Tell her I fudging love her. She's fudging brilliant!”
The reason my wallet was discovered on the staff room floor in the first place was because I was paying Lee-lee back the six bucks I owed her for a blue shirt. Tomorrow is the National Book Week parade at school and a bunch of us teachers are dressing up as the same characters.
We have blue shirts, white pants, shoes and caps.
