No-one Knows

Today I was sent on a training day. Normally a magnificent skive of a thing and a fine excuse to get away from work. I felt quite cheery as I entered the conference suite in the hotel. It looked like the trainer person was late. There was a collection of people already in the room standing about making small talk, none of whom I knew.

Oh dear, they looked like a bunch of fannies. Perhaps it's the lack of sleep that made me feel a little ascerbic. The good lady had pregnancy insomnia and doesn't like to suffer alone.

Aha! My eyes lit up, there was a coffee machine! I made my way over to it and helped myself. I stood, sipping my coffee and pulled my phone out to make sure the good lady hadn't spontaneously spewed out a litter of babies.

As I looked at my phone a shadow fell over me.

Alright mate, what a load of shite eh?

I looked up, before me stood a proper orangutan of a fellow. Bushy red hair and heavy of face. Despite being afflicted with red hair he looked ever so happy. I admired his bravery.

Erm, hello. What is?

This, all this. Load of shite, eh?

Hmm, all of this? He was either a philosopher or a madman. My money was on the latter.

Total shite, isn't it?.

He leaned close and gave me a playful slap on the shoulder which was far harder than it had to be. Oh bollocks. Not a wannabe alpha male, I hate those.

I suppose so. Still, beats working.

What? Shite! I've got a lot on. A. Lot. On.

He nodded as if we were sharing a filthy joke. I looked about for some kind of escape. But there was none. People of varying shades of grey loitered about muttering about the weather or the latest episode of some cooking show.

My new best friend moved in close and muttered like a spy in a bad movie.

Who do you work for?

I told him.

Oh aye, what do you do there?

I work in IT.

He looked pained, like he had licked piss off a nettle. I thought it best to at least make the effort to be civil.

What about you, where do you work?

His pained expression swiftly made way for a strangely jubilant smile.

Can't really say.

He smirked as if stroking a cat's balls. I made a pffft noise.

You can't say?

Afraid not.

He was vibrating with self importance. I worried that he might burst. Why on earth couldn't he say? Then it dawned on me. I knew what this was, he must work at the 'secret' Ministry of Defense building just along the road from the hotel. Everyone knew about it.

Ah, you working in the MoD building along the road then?

He chuckled knowingly and nodded slightly, before catching himself and shaking his head madly. A sheen of sweat glistening on his big orange brow.

I couldn't possibly say and even if I could, I couldn't say where it was.

He said this loudly and pompously. A few people looked over. His body language was screaming look at me! LOOK AT ME! I think he thought he was James Bond.

Well there is such a building. It's just at the end of this road. Been there for years. Everyone knows about it.

No. That's not true, no-one knows about it.

Everyone knows about it.

No they don't.

He was getting annoyed. I looked at the door for any sign of the Trainer or in fact anyone who would save me from this ginger buffoon. But nada.

Well you seem to know about it.

He glared at me. His brain working furiously behind his watery baboon eyes. It took about twenty seconds, before he ventured.

No I don't.

How can you say no-one knows about it if you don't know what it is that no-one knows about? For that matter, how do I know about it?

Because... It's... Look, it's... Oh never mind.

He flounced away and found a gaggle of other folk.

I heard his voice boom out.

Load of shite this eh?

I shook my head, it was going to be a long day.