Travesty of All Things Gay returns to the agency on Monday. I am fully expecting a full solar eclipse and the bodies of the dead to rise from the ground and walk again, at the very least.
For three blissful weeks, he has been on holiday (or “vacation” as he cringe-makingly calls it), a Gayfest that began with going to see Bette Midler live in Las Vegas, and has no doubt given him ample opportunity to indulge his taste for outre and awful fashion (the “Kill Bill” yellow jumpsuit, worn with black and white checked knotted neckerchief has yet to be surpassed, although, to be fair that was the stuff of “Now I can die happy”), and when he returns he will unveil a shrieking tornado of panic and discord, like something out of one of the hairier Greek Myths.
The indisputable truth is that when he is not here/not around, things go better: the team works beautifully (even Fembot becomes bearable), the work is outstanding and the Client runs round in excited little circles, handing out briefs like sweets at at party. When he is around, so much energy goes into “managing” him (unless, like me, you simply ignore him) that the job becomes 50% more problematic than it need be.
Anyway, I have good reason to believe that the end is in sight – and so I can put up with his presence for a little while longer…
