Did you steal my bloody phone charger?
My outrage knew no bounds. Next to dating your best friends ex there were few things more sacrosanct than messing with a man's phone charger.
The old lady, Battleship, raised an eyebrow challengingly at me as if I was telling her of the bone in a dog's penis.
The thing is, E20. All portable electrical devices have to be tested and certified before use in the workplace. This device was non compliant with that policy.
She looked bored as she said this. Hell, I was bored listening to it and it wasn't the longest of speeches.
Why do you keep calling me E20?
Battleship made a soft gurgling noise and her shoulders shook. With a start, I realised she was laughing.
You don't even know, do you? That desk you insist on sitting at even though we have a strict hot-desk policy, it has a number you know?... Therefore you have a number.
She leaned forward, resembling a vulture pecking at an arse cheek.
E20. That's you.
I flinched back.
Hey, I'm not a number, I'm a free man?!
Battleship laughed again. Properly this time. A great hacking laugh as if she was being tattooed on herInner Nelly.
E20. Unless of course you start to abide by the policy?...
What policy? To take a different desk each day? Who decides this shit? Tell me, who?
Battleship's demeanor changed and she glanced guiltily upward at the ceiling.
My mind raced with detectivity. I was fairly certain there was no God, so she couldn't have been looking to him/her. We were in the basement so sheer logical deduction led me to conclude that she was subconsciously thinking of someone above...
Then a thought struck me.
So this isn't about my phone charger at all, is it? This goes deeper. Who is pulling the strings? Who is NUMBER 1? TELL ME!
I slapped the desk in front of me hard. A move which always got results.
Battleship jumped then leapt to her feet and slapped the desk harder than I had.
Time for you to stop asking questions, you hear?
She screeched, tendons standing out on her neck in a way that even I struggled to find sexy.
I stood also.
Don't think so, baby cakes. For too long I've been shitting in the dark. It ends now. NOTHING is going to stop me finding out who is behind EVERYTHING. You hear me? NOTHING!
We faced each other across the desk. A curious silence between us as if we had just watched the Game of Thrones finale together.
Nothing eh? We will see about that. If you change your mind, call me.
She scratched out a number on a post-it note and passed it over.
I took it and left.
I had a lead now, a lead to the person behind everything. The person upstairs.
I was gonna crack this case. I knew it. I could feel it in my water.
As I approached my desk, I noticed something odd. My monitor and laptop dock was missing. The power outlets beside them taped over.
A note was scrawled on an A4 piece of paper stuck to the desk.
Equipment removed for electrical safety tests.
What the fuck?!
Mikey looked up from his screen.
Oh yeah, dude. Facilities came, said you would have to use another desk.
I glared at Mikey as if we were racing to ejaculate on a biscuit and he had come first.
Yeah, it wouldn't be forever?
I felt the blood drain from my face. Pursing my lips I snatched up my phone and dialed the number on the post-it Battleship had given me.
She picked it up on the second ring. I took a deep breath then released it.
Alright. You win.