Thursday, March 31, 2011

Tweeter and the Monkeyman

You are in your first real agency job where the office is air-conditioned and people have names like those in the English medium classes in your school. Even local names have been Anglicised, you realise. People are ordering sandwiches and doughnuts from the office boy who is going around asking people what they want for lunch. You say no as you’ve tried it once and not only was it foreign to your taste buds, it left you as hungry as you were before you ate them. You eat from your lunch box you got from home, and light up a cigarette. You are allowed to smoke in the office, and you notice even women smoke here which is new to you. You are a small town boy and you feel out of place but you’ve made some friends. And your immediate boss is a decent chap who shares your taste in music. He comes around just as you are about to get back to work and plays this song on a tape recorder, as he too likes this singer. The brief can wait.

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