Friday, March 26, 2010

Give me a B...


Julie dropped an information pack on Harold's desk. Despite his policy of 'You can come to me anytime' there was an unwritten addendum stating 'except when I'm playing 'Armageddon 2'*'. "Is there a provision for health insurance on the employee contracts?"

Harold pressed pause and picked up the paperwork. "At a guess I'd say it was called income tax, National Insurance contributions and the NHS," he said, "but I suspect you're going to tell me otherwise."

"Did you know that a woman doing my job in America would be entitled to private health insurance as a matter of course?"

"A woman doing your job in America would never be able to put the books back on the shelves," said Harold, "but I appreciate that an American woman doing a similar job might be in receipt of health insurance, yes."

"Well we all want private health insurance."

"I see," Harold clasped his hands together and made a steeple of his fingers. "Okay. Firstly, you're the only official employee, the rest are migrant demonic familiars. Secondly, you're the one who wrote your contract of employment and thirdly, you can have private health insurance by all means. Go and have a word with Jasfoup. He'll sort out the requisite paperwork."




both oxymoron and pleonasm but when did accuracy ever inhibit a computer game publisher from making a fast deer?

4 comments:

aims said...

I expect she'll have to sign her copies in blood??

Leatherdykeuk said...

of course!

stephanie said...

*chuckles*

The grass is always greener. Do you know how much we pay for that and how little it grants us?

Leatherdykeuk said...

Indeed!