The joys and sorrows of work...

Unhappy in your current job? Feel like your creative potential is not tapped into?... That your career is not allowing you to flourish and become who you really are?

Before you quit your job and join the hordes of North-European backpackers in saving the world, read this short story. I hope it may offer some consolation on a hot Friday evening, while you diligently draft away that toilet-wall detail into AutoCAD's black oblivion...

The joys and sorrows of work...

I’m calling a well known number: 9-5. In certain countries of the world, a mere thought of these two numbers will get people sighing deeply. In others, dialling the same number prompts an automated voice to tell you current local time – precise to the second. I live in the second bunch.

It is also one of the few numbers that work here.

The phone rings once.

- It’s 11 o’clock 23 minutes, 5 seconds.

The female voice hangs up.

I’m irritated by having been hanged up on. A robot shouldn’t hang up on people. I dial again. 9 followed by five, making sure I don’t dial a four or a six instead (police and emergency or something, I can’t remember).

The female voice is on again.

- It’s 11 o’clock 24 minutes, 7 seconds.

The voice hangs up again. It doesn’t sound quite as I would imagine a female android to sound. I’m curious. 9 – 5 again.

- It’s 11 o’clock 24 minutes, 59 seconds. Click. Beep-beep...

Sound of grenades exploding is heard in the distance. There is a war here after all. Nine – Five.

It rings twice this time.

- 11 o’clock 26 minutes, 6 seconds. Click. Beep...

This automated voice starts to sound ever more agitated. Robots don’t have feelings. 9.5.

- 11 o’clock 26 minutes, 57 seconds. The voice stutters a bit then pauses.

- Hellooo! Are you suuure?!

- Fuck off you little bastard! And stop calling here lest I come and stick this receiver as far up your butt and teach you to bother people. Oh God, what have I done to deserve this, to sit here all day and...Click!...Beep-beep...

Another grenade is heard. Much closer this time. Someone’s dead, no doubt.

I go up to see my best buddy – Eddie and tell him all about my phone conversation with a time teller. We may call again later, for fun.

School’s been out for a whole year, yet adults had never ceased to amaze us...

By Z.Basic