- Elementary Funk
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Exceptional, the last remaining weeks of Tax Help are just right around the bloodied corner and the onslaught really begins. Last week there was much cryptic crossword rejoicement, so much time to think. Yesterday the story fell shut. Ten clients all in one day, all on the booking sheet bearing my name. Late and sweating, the first client was way too relaxed. But if you don't care, you don't care. After noticing that I had taken to staring at the handbook for the fifth time during their consultation, a British couple at my hands ran off to their tax agent of last year. Rich and still seeking freebies. The next lot came about with something of a jumbled slot. They had booked—as a family of three—a one o'clock appointment that ran until three, but between their names was another at two. The girl had this alluring eye shadow, would look a treat if it were edible and not pasted on someone's eyelid. Luckily the day was missing some bodies and so there was a little respite.
A gust of wind totally blew up the dress of some girl walking alongside, I thought it was customary to sew in lead weights into the hems.
Saturday, 20 October 2001 - 03:41
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