Thursday, 25 October 2012

The Female of the Species.

Can be found in her natural habitat, bustling in the back office dealing deftly with various queries, multi tasking, having a quick lunch at a make-shift table, (Out of view of the punters naturally but still within earshot.) cashing up, sending envelopes flying through the franking machine and any one of a hundred other duties relating to ticket sales.

Her male counterparts do not bustle.
They lurk.
In corners behind office doors on wheelie chairs from which they peep suspiciously at the females. Or squat over desks, fingers frolicking on mobile key pads instead of computers, churning out texts not tickets.

Naughty.
And dangerous.
The Matriarchs will have something to say about that.

Every now and then banter breaks down the barriers releasing pent up tension which trickles through the pecking order until humour and balance is restored.

For now.

Box office boys believe themselves invincible but their time will come.

The female of the species is wise. Patience and stealth her weapon of choice.

An enticing smile lures one of their breed to the shredder to 'unblock' mangled mush. Leaning in for closer inspection his tie dangles precariously close to terrifying metal teeth.

He realises too late the gravity of his position.

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