Tuesday, February 05, 2008

A wild desk chase

"There's a desk. In the High Street. Opposite the health food shop," said Miss-Cellany, when I answered the phone. The closest thing I have to a desk at present is a slightly too high, wonky-legged table. I don't use it. It gives me backache. Of course, so does writing in bed; but at least it keeps my feet warm. Needless to say, I sprang into action immediately, umming and ahhing with all the urgency I could muster.

Could I be bothered? Hmm. I'd been into town already; it had resulted in a sudden and unexpected soaking. And there was still writing work to do (yes, I'm semi-employed at the moment). What to do? Procrastinate for half an hour and then go anyway, I decided. Well, not so much decided; it was just what happened, really.

Miss-Cellany was right*. Outside an architects firm, or possibly an estate agents (it had something to do with property anyway), there it was: the desk. But was it going to be small enough?

From where I was, it was hard to see. And more crucially, a tallish dark-haired woman with glasses was standing in front of it. She seemed to be trying to get to the office door. Eventually managing to squeeze past the desk, she knocked. At least that would save me the trouble, I thought. A pause. No-one answered. So, it was clear: the desk was free for the taking.

Ah. But her taking, or mine?

Yep. Hers. Obviously.

[Sigh] It was probably too big anyway.

Hmm, that would have been a good place to end it - I quite liked the bathos. But what actually happened was that we got talking. She was setting up a new business, she said - music promotions. And she wanted to know what I did. I tried to remember, and, after what I noted happily was only a small delay, I told her. She seemed interested. I told her something about the Radio 4 sitcom that might now be an Afternoon Play. She told me that she knew a television producer and took my number. Most likely nothing will come of it, and if it does, I have every expectation that the producer will turn out to be Colin Rogers reviving the Resnick franchise. But I thanked her anyway.

Deciding that I'd better text emapple to say that transport wouldn't be needed after all, I remained standing beside the woman's car; the woman was still securing the desk in her boot. We continued to chat a little. Neither, it seems, was Serendipity yet done at the scene; or perhaps she just had another whim and came back - I don't really know how it works. Either way: "Oh, I do some work for a record company," the woman said. "They might have something for you. Maybe artist profiles, or something like that."

It could only be... yep, Aardvark Records.

Erm, it's probably about time I thanked them for this anyway...

[N.B. "[T]he cut and thrust of a pressure cooker environment" might have been overdoing things just a little bit... But still, very nice of them to say, though]

*not that I'd doubted her. I just felt that paragraph needed to begin with a sentence a bit like that.


Taiga the Fox said...

Brilliant! I will wait for the sequel to this... [entitled Chance Chance Chance, which also follows the adventures of the nearly unnamed protagonist and the Desk Woman?]

Occasional Poster of Comments said...

Hmm, the Desk Woman... I wonder if that's what became of the Log Lady after Twin Peaks?

Excellent name for a sequel :) I hadn't thought anywhere near that far ahead. Suddenly, I'm quite glad there isn't a Dolphin Hotel in Falmouth...

This one apparently offers dolphin watching, though... [shivers]

Taiga the Fox said...

Oh yes, freelance copywriters, dolphin hotels...hmmm... if they say something like "dance, dance, dance, as long as the music plays" in the record company, I suggest you'd better run away from the pressure cooker environment.

patroclus said...

Crikey, how fortuitous. It wasn't James's friend, M, was it? She's always promoting gigs and stuff, the latest is MV+EE in Penryn on Monday.

Have you joined the Falmouth Freecycle group, you would probably be able to pick up a free desk quite easily from there.

patroclus said...

Oh but wait, no, M. is smallish, with no glasses. A mystery person then. Fantastic!

Occasional Poster of Comments said...

Let's see, I know David Morris who puts on the Lono gigs... but his wife is blonde. Is M the woman from Jam? Well, not that I really know her...

Anyway, I'm actually going to the MV&EE thing. In another odd coincidence, one of the support acts, The Doozer, happens to be someone I knew in Cambridge. Haven't seen him perform in that particular guise.

Erm, mind you, even if I didn't know him, I'd have to go - anything involving Doozers, basically. I always loved those inscrutable little green creatures :)

miss-cellany said...

'Reviving Resnick and Desk Woman'... I think there's a new series just waiting to explode upon the world.

Glad serendipity smiled upon you. Might head out and see what else I can find abandoned in Falmouth's fair streets.

["not that I'd doubted her" fair comment really, as suppose I have been known to insist on the fabulous/downright impossible from time to time:)]

Jen said...

You wanna come to Hackney there is crazy furniture all over the place - just for the taking. People call it street swap. The council call it 'fly tipping'

Taiga the Fox said...

It's a shame it wasn't this kind of a partners desk. It would have been big enough for both of you, I guess.
Erm, if someone spots something like that or preferably an oak roll top desk with a raised panel on the street, I might want to offer it a good home.

Occasional Poster of Comments said...

Hmm, having that partner desk in my room would at least ensure I did some work - I wouldn't be able to get out.

M-C: Actually, I kind of like the idea of Reviving Resnick... at least it would mean he died every episode.

You know, I'm sure I said that name would never feature on this blog again... Resnick: the wound that never heals.
[Hmm, that might be episode One...]

patroclus said...

I think M. works in the actual venue. (Crumbs, I'm being very cryptic, aren't I?)

If I wasn't in France at the moment I might well have come along to that gig too. Bums.

There's a Dolphin Hotel in Southampton. I have stayed there, and while staying there I flicked through a celebrity magazine and learned that Natalie Imbruglia polishes her draining board with baby oil. None of that is a euphemism, either.