iDrew, 4/3/2011

Current Occupation: Call Centre Operator / Customer Relations
Former Occupation: Retail Sales for a High Street Fashion Store
Contact Information: Writing under the name of iDrew to co-ordinate with her titles, Essex girl Drew has previously been published in various magazines such as: ‘The Delinquent’, ‘Battered Suitcase’, ‘All Things Girl’, and the ‘Read This Skin Deep Anthology’. She enjoys shopping, boys and clubs but claims these are all merely research for her writing. Writing offers a wonderful escape from the tedium of soul destroying bill paying meaningless jobs She is also one of the founding members of the Clueless Collective and can be found at:


these wages are pants
these wages barely pay the rent
or my credit cards or council tax
i need a pay rise
i could put in for promotion
which would mean more responsibility
mmm that might be a problem

‘cos i’m so bored bored and bored
perhaps i’ll get the evening paper
see what’s out there
i feel imprisoned by this building
trapped by financial commitments

the jailer
i mean my size large sweaty boss
keys dangling
from a belt fob
says i should work
extra hours on the phone
repeating sales talk
like a brainwashed parrot

he smiles
with his overtime suggestion
creepy smile
and every time he gets up close
too close
clammily brushing against me
makes my skin crawl
and exfoliate

if he touches me again
so help me i’ll kick him where it hurts
but then i’ll get sacked
the price of a wage makes me
morally bankrupt



they call it a tradition
a couple of drinks down the pub
friday evening after work
welcome in the weekend
tradition or not
seems like a good idea

by the time i’d arrived
the very blokey conversation was
top five places you’ve done it
at work
i sat next to —- from accounts
thinking he was well lush

he said drew
i thought you’d know better
than to sit and listen
to these losers
i said i want to pick up tips
from the wealth of their experience
i’ve never done it at work
and well …
you just never know

god he’s so gorgeous
i deffo would with him
what a waste he goes out with
poppy pop tart
who works in the halifax
only in my little dreamy world
he could be sat here
telling me they’ve split up

and so our office romance
would begin with our top five list
oh em gee —- and me
sitting in reception

although the stationery cupboard
might not be an imaginative start
who cares
he bent me over the copier
and then we made another copy
and in triplicate
we felt the need to be thorough

next we had a great bit of luck
with lots of overtime for just us
(accounts and customer services
together as one)
but we couldn’t decide on his desk or mine
in the end we chose to compromise
number four on our list
ravaged against the vending machine
i’ll never press the milk button
in the same way again

number three was awesome
late at night
in the deserted rest room
a sofa to chill out on
dimmed lights …

numbers two and one
both classic locations
on the boss’s desk
and scratches on the boardroom table

devastated it had to end
when —- stood up
to buy another round
and answer his phone
(poppy pop tart)

another fantasy mashed
never mind
i’ll drink to celebrate the weekend
or is it a tradition to hold a wake
for another dead dream
that ends with an ache

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