IN THE CLOSET

Hi. I've been working at this PR office a whole week now and I think I can honestly say I want to be a PR werewolfess when I grow up. Am the secretary's secretary, I do the dishes too. Not to worry, there are also times when they make me do intellectual things like reply letters, write stories for their magazine and... and... other intellectual things. Anyway, now to what's got me really excited about writing this post: The closet.

Right next to where I do the dishes is a closet. It has all the cleaning impliments but ample space. Ample space for what? Am about to explain;

You know how, in the movies, the hero and the heroine start walking down the corridor and then suddenly he pulls her through a small unobstrusive door, then hours later they emerge, dishevelled and radiant? There's such a door at my office!!!! How romantic. Every time I pass by, I throw it open hoping to catch someone to snigger at later. But nada.

Am almost angry that these people are not putting that closet to good use!! If they aren't careful, am going to do it myself!! I just need to find out where the hot doods are @ in this joint. I thought I'd found one. I mean, brother spoke like Zeus on the telephone. Ah well, shit happens. But that closet...