A client's driver who frequents our office for pick-ups sometimes comes to my desk to discuss any new "chatter" floating around the screen printing/garment industry.
So Bryan (not his real name) who walks in with his treasured lunch nestled carefully between arm and body announces his arrival wid a "Wha-happen Man?", then smiles in approval as I acknowledge him and continue working a pace. Now Bryan, who's daily attire usually consists of whatever previously worn tshirt and three-quarter pants was flung over his bedhead and passed the sniff test that morning, plunks himself down into one the chairs opposite my desk and opens a steaming hot container of food.
Out pours encouraging smells of a well made West Indian meal, that hauntingly tease my nostrils and stirs up a ghastly hunger pang.
Me: Bryan why yuh wicked so man.
Bryan: Me, wha i do?
Me: I ain't eat as yet eh, yuh killin me here wid dat food.
Bryan: (Sucks on a grease sauced chicken bone) Yuh hadda eat wherever it ketch yuh.
Me: By my desk? We have a kitchen yuh know.
Bryan: Oooogoosh Sorry boss. (Stays put and continues eating)
Me: (Sigh)
We have a lengthy convo abt a Gov Minister who has printed some 70K in t'shirts and "ducking" payment.
I comply with a C.O.P none payment story of my own going back to right after the last elections.
Bryan finishes his meal, packs it away, then stretches out within the chair, pulls out a Digicel ph card, vigorously scratches away the aluminium and tops up his ph.
Now I'm still focused on my task at hand, but out of the corner of my eye I see Bryan sheepishly raise the ph card to his mouth. He then slowly begins to scrape away at any remaining bits of food stuck to his teeth, leaving a biofilm of plaque being displayed prominently on the outer lining ph card.
This action brings forth a silent internal gag, followed by short sharp breaths to combat the rising, gurgling vomit in attempt to force it back down from whence it came.
Me: Bryan give me a minute I need to make an important call.
Bryan: Boss yuh done wid me?
Me: (looks at incomplete graphic on the computer screen)... If u have any other stops maybe u can do those and I'll send it out for you when u come back.
Bryan: yeh ...do dat nah!
Bryan tucks the plaque stained ph card away in his three-quarter jeans pants pocket for later use, gives me the "black man nod" then leaves.
I Stare at his exit and "smh". I turn back to my computer and glance downwards, only to see his food container still on my desk.
Me: *#^%(#*#^$......
Sigh!
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