Posted by: Nick Walters | January 12, 2009

Back to Werk

His eyes glazed over as he scanned the latest BERR press release. It was about a speech by Lord Mandleson on something or other. He knew he should read it, and the many other documents clamouring for his attention, in order to make himself an informed, engaged, proactive participant in the workplace, so he made an active effort to rally his attention and interest. But all this did was to coalesce a hard, dull ache in the middle of his chest, as if his heart was turning to lead and sinking into his stomach.

He leaned back in his chair and let out a long, shuddering sigh.

With two clicks of the mouse he minimised everything on his screen, leaving only his wallpaper, which at this moment was a Doctor Who promotional picture of a Cyberman from the recent Christmas episode of the programme. I should change that, he thought. I’m sick of looking at that bloody Cyberman. Its steel features, framed by the snowy landscape, seem to echo my despair and isolation. Sitting up slightly straighter, he opened Microsoft Internet Explorer and went to the Google home page, not really knowing what he was looking for.

What do I want, he thought. Something nice to look at. Some totty, perhaps. He knew that he must be careful, as accessing pornography, even accidentally, at work was career suicide. Some safe totty, then. His mind ran back over the television programmes and films he had seen recently, searching for a pleasing face. Mary Tamm? No, nothing Doctor Who – he’d had enough of that, for now. Felicity Kendall? No, that would remind him of someone he was trying to forget about. Sandra Bullock? He shook his head. Got to be something current.

What was he listening to right now? Late of the Pier. But they were all blokes. The Ting Tings! But her teeth scared him. Portishead! But Beth Gibbons alarmed him. For some reason, he suddenly typed “Audrey Hepburn” into Google – why not go for the classics? – but hesitated. People would think he was gay. Then he got angry with himself for thinking that. Why should he care what people thought?

He cast his mind back over his barren romantic life, and, not for the first time, wished that he WAS gay, for perhaps then, he might get some action from some of the desperate homosexual actors he knew. Well, Baldy. But, he wasn’t gay.

He let out another deep sigh, and with a sense of resignation and dread, went to the Doctor Who News Page, scrolled down to the story about the casting of Matt Smith as the Eleventh Doctor, selected one of the images from the photoshoot, and right-clicked Set as Background.

This done, he then slumped back down in his chair, deflated, gazing with envy at Matt Smith’s slim form and good looks.

Bastard, he thought. Lucky bastard.

His boss’s voice jolted him back to dreaded reality. “Nick! Nick? Have you read that Mandleson press release yet?”

Nick sighed again and shook his head. “I’m doing it now,” he said, then got up to make a cup of tea.


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