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(no subject)
Jul. 5th, 2004 08:17 amHaiku? A haiku?
Ummmm - a Japanese poem.
Well, I'm no poet.
Ummmm - a Japanese poem.
Well, I'm no poet.
Jul. 5th, 2004
(no subject)
Jul. 5th, 2004 10:39 pmWent to the bank today to upgrade my current account. Now, finance is something about which I know nothing and care less – my money comes in and goes back out again so fast that if I blink I miss it – but I realised that with car repairs to pay for I wasn’t going to make it through the month and this upgrade gives me some interest free leeway if I go overdrawn.
So, I went in and asked and was put on a chair to wait for my ‘account manager’, Kirsty.
My bank has gone all corporate on us now. It used to be that the assistants were clean and tidy and polite but now they have all sorts of gimmicks and gizmos they have to go through AND they all wear uniforms – smart suits with fitted jackets, white blouses and pencil skirts. Very efficient looking.
Kirsty, when she arrived, looked as though she should have been playing with her dollies. But the suit did lend her an air of authority and I was dealing with her quite happily until I noticed her feet. From the neck up, sweet teen, neck to mid calf, efficient business woman, but from there on down – whoohoo!
Young Kirsty had some very nicely placed tattoos, an ankle bracelet with a dear little padlock and strappy, six inch spike heeled, dominatrix stilettos.
I, of course, threatened to hand my notice in when the ‘powers that be’ tried to persuade me to wear a polyester skirt suit, high heels and a cravat, arguing that I’d look silly waving a broadsword around or climbing the walls to rescue kids. I don’t suppose that poor Kirsty had that option open to her so a resounding YAY for Kirsty – expressing her personality below the knee!
So, I went in and asked and was put on a chair to wait for my ‘account manager’, Kirsty.
My bank has gone all corporate on us now. It used to be that the assistants were clean and tidy and polite but now they have all sorts of gimmicks and gizmos they have to go through AND they all wear uniforms – smart suits with fitted jackets, white blouses and pencil skirts. Very efficient looking.
Kirsty, when she arrived, looked as though she should have been playing with her dollies. But the suit did lend her an air of authority and I was dealing with her quite happily until I noticed her feet. From the neck up, sweet teen, neck to mid calf, efficient business woman, but from there on down – whoohoo!
Young Kirsty had some very nicely placed tattoos, an ankle bracelet with a dear little padlock and strappy, six inch spike heeled, dominatrix stilettos.
I, of course, threatened to hand my notice in when the ‘powers that be’ tried to persuade me to wear a polyester skirt suit, high heels and a cravat, arguing that I’d look silly waving a broadsword around or climbing the walls to rescue kids. I don’t suppose that poor Kirsty had that option open to her so a resounding YAY for Kirsty – expressing her personality below the knee!