I'Ll Go Home Then, It's Warm and Has Chairs. The Unpublished Emails. - (8 page)

Bill tries to buy cheese. Part 3

Ten reasons I probably shouldn’t be alive: Wilma Deering

During primary school, my favourite television show was a program called Buck Rogers in the 25th Century which featured a pudgy astronaut named Buck who is frozen is space while testing a new spacecraft and thawed out hundreds of years later when everyone wears really tight jumpsuits. 

The series followed Buck’s many exciting adventures in which he tried to fit into 25th-Century culture, aided in his adventures by a robot named Twiki and his friend and semi-romantic interest, Colonel Wilma Deering, who wore a tighter jumpsuit than anyone else.

I liked Colonel Wilma Deering a lot. I have seen photos of her since and she isn’t much chop but there is no accounting for the logic of prepubescent boys. I had a poster of her on my bedroom wall and I’m fairly sure I kissed it a few times. I also grew fairly resentful of Buck as they spent a lot of time together.

Once, I used a cassette recorder to record  myself saying, in a girl’s voice, “Buck and I are just friends, I love you David. I want to marry you” and sat there for hours looking at the poster while playing, rewinding, and playing the recording over again. Once, while occupied by my own thoughts during a school class, I called the teacher Wilma which was almost as embarrassing as the times I had previously called her mum.

As the concept of being frozen and later thawed seemed scientifically sound, I decided to undertake the process one night figuring even if Colonel Wilma Deering wasn’t going to be waiting for me in the future, there would obviously be a lot of other girls in really tight jumpsuits. Wanting to fit in when I reached the future, I donned my sisters shiny blue spandex unitard and waited patiently until I was sure my parents were asleep before making my way down the hall and into the kitchen.

Opening the refrigerator, I quietly removed the food and the shelves, sat inside, and swung the door shut. Bored and uncomfortable after five minutes, I got out, grabbed a cusion, flashlight and a Phantom comic, and climbed back in.

I am not sure if it was due to the lack of air or hypothermia setting in but I remember the shivering stopping and a feeling of warmth settling over me as I began to drift off, happy in the knowledge that the next time I opened my eyes, it would be to the sight of  jetpacks, robots and tight jumpsuits.

It was then that I heard the muffled voice of my father, who had risen to use the bathroom and discovered the kitchen floor covered in food, muttering “what the fuck is going on here?” before throwing open the refrigerator door to reveal me sitting on a cusion holding a flashlight and comic book, dressed in my sister’s jazzercise outfit.

While one might expect most parents to be angered by this seemingly irrational type of behaviour, years of such had worn my father down to the point where he simply stared at me with a disappointed look on his face before stating “Stop being a dickhead” and closed the refrigerator door.

A few months later, I read somewhere that if you travel at the speed of light for a few minutes, when you slow down and head home after the experiment, you will find that hundreds of years have passed.  Securing my father's portable generator to the rear book rack of my bike with rope and attaching the drive belt to the back wheel gear spindle, I sat on the bike and pulled the zip-cord. Unfortunately, instead of finding myself in the future, I traveled about fifty metres along the sidewalk at 200mph before finding myself in a bush. When asked by the nurse filling out the hospital accident report "Cause of accident?" I stated, 'time travel attempt' but she wrote down 'stupidity.'

I know you’re busy, so I made another form to fill out

I don’t like Microsoft Word. As a designer and Mac user, the only time I ever have to open Word is when some idiot sends me an attachment in Word format. Mellissa once emailed me   a copy of an email as a word document. The word document contained a jpg screenshot of the original email. I am deleting Word from my computer after I finish writing this line.

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From: Mellissa Peters

Date: Monday 27 February 2012 9.38am

To: All staff

Subject: Form

Hi,

I know everyone is really busy this week trying to get the annual report layout done on time so I will get everyone their lunches this week and bring them back instead of everyone having to go to the shops themselves. There is a lunch order form attached in Word format. Just print it out and write down what you want and leave it on my desk. I’ll write in the price when I am at the shops and at the end of the week i’ll work out your total.

Thanks Mel

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From: David Thorne

Date: Monday 27 February 2012 9.47am

To: Mellissa Peters

Subject: Re: Form

Dear Mellissa,

While I appreciate your efforts to improve productivity by removing the only half hour repreive I get from rubbish like this each day, couldn’t I just tell you what I want and you write it down?

Regards, David.

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From: Mellissa Peters

Date: Monday 27 February 2012 9.54am

To: David Thorne

Subject: Re: Re: Form

No because then I would have to write everyones down. It is quicker if you all do it yourselves.

Mel

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From: David Thorne

Date: Monday 27 February 2012 9.57am

To: Mellissa Peters

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Form

How long did it take you to make the form in Word?

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From: Mellissa Peters

Date: Monday 27 February 2012 10.02am

To: David Thorne