No. 11: The Ware house Man And The Swallow, 1989

In this warehouse , there used to be light at one time. Now I am surrounded by stacks of cloth,every possible inch has been utilised , the windows have all been blocked , and now as well as having to endure the dark tedium of the nature of my job I have to suffer the concrete darkness of the situation . Of course , such petty needs as one has for seeing the sun are quite trivial compared to the pressures of business that Silky Novelties Ltd have to put up with .

Robert Argent is the one I share the warehouse with , he is our 'Production Manager ' . If only the Gods had endowed me with this man's enthusiasm. Argent is the archetypal law abiding citizen ; a faithful servant to all who employ him , and ardent nationalist when England play Japan in tiddly-winks , regardless of whether he understands the rules of the game. At the same time he can be a 'crawler' and a 'scab' to the militant trade unionist,but kind natured , cheerful and pleasant , all in all Argent is one of society's necessary simpletons.

I the warehouse man , detest my job and spend my days at counting the minutes go by, at times the tasks I am given to perform are so frustratingly mundane that at times of despair I conclude that I would not wish this job on my worst enemy .And to see the looks on the directors when they come to the warehouse from time to time , you would think they have bestowed upon me a great privilege by giving me the opportunity to be their dog's body in this age of growing unemployment .

Lets face it ,Argent , although his duties involved a great deal of managerial work , was a humble , glorified warehouse man akin to myself.

Today is like any other day , I get up at about 7.30 a.m , don't even bother to eat anything , and if I have a minute to spare I hastily brush my teeth and get into my rusty vehicle to join the rest of 'civilisation ' for want of a better word and scramble onto the overcrowded roads of London with the same thought as hundreds of thousands of other Londoners at that time of day: I must be at the office or wherever they have to be by the agreed time.We have ceased to question things ,it is easier that way .We are all on the road to work and that is what matters , we can feel good within ourselves for we are leading reasonably honest lives and serving the community,our hours are given structure , which can be good as idleness ,according to many can make one think too much and that normally induces restlessness or depression .

Acknowledging that though , I for one can still not come to terms with my morning routine . There is a whole war going on out there!My journey takes on average about fifty to seventy minutes .I really cannot say which I dread most, the journey to get to work or the actual prospect for yet another day the warehouse. In my case it's like some kind of trap , I drive for about an hour at what must be an average speed of 7 m.p.h. , by the end of the journey I feel somewhat relieved by the fact that I have actually survived the trip , then as soon as I enter the warehouse it's a case of out of the frying pan and into a deeper frying pan.

The traffic today is quite normal , lights change a good several times before I can cross them , then as soon as there is a solid stretch of road, out of nowhere appear he usual road hogs. These people I can never understand , they are forever on the overtake, one has just cut into the space in front of me , forcing me to slow down to avoid contact . He's lucky I'm not of psychopathic temperament , for if I were I would have killed hundreds of these types by now. It's obvious that there is not enough room on the road for a car to weave in and out at this point in the rush hour , even if he succeeds in pulling off two of these stunts he will only improve his journey time very slightly .It is normally this type of driver that becomes abusive when somebody obstructs him. It seems like many people are on a small form of rebellion , pity though , that is takes this shape.

Arriving at Camden Town where the warehouse is situated , I turn into the car park .I feel a little relieved at the end of the journey to get away from the underlying aggression of the road , I suppose there must be thousands of Argents out there , in fact I believe that most of them are more like Argent than me, Steve Nichols .There must be quite a few Nichols out there too , it takes all types to make a world as they say , but quite definitely the Argent's are the norm .To a prime minister for example, they are 'the man in the street' that the government represents . Or to put it more bluntly , if the government employed a genetic engineer to transform the populace to what the government would like to represent , or even 'govern ' , the Argent would be the prototype clone.

The Nichols , obviously the minority are more difficult to describe , they are on the whole discontents . Many turn to crime , others wallow int their misery and could very well end up on drugs. Others remain in the stream of life and try their hardest to to be Argents , even when they succeed at transforming themselves into Argents , as many do, there is always a fundamental difference and that is that
they are a Nichols trying to conform and be an Argent whereas an Argent is always an Argent whether he knows it or not .

The best a Nichols can do is to find an an escape route where he can achieve personal liberty and establish himself in something he can believe in and in that way attain a degree of independence . Failing that , he must try and obtain an inner fulfilment to a point that nothing external can bother him any more .

I get out of the car and head for the warehouse, I can see from the window that Rob Argent has beaten me to it this morning , sparing me the the task of unlocking the warehouse doors and switching off the burglar alarm. As I enter I find Argent with his nose stuck into a length of fabric and a piece of paper in his left hand trying to identify a pattern for a customer , at the same time he is humming smugly to himself as he often does .
' Good morning Steve .' He greets .
' Good morning Rob.' I then head straight for the tea cups by the sin and make a cup of tea for Argent and a coffee for myself . He thanks me for the drink and leaves it forgetfully as he often does in order to go pottering around as fast as possible , knowing that there are only so many hours in the working day . He must cram In as much as he can , there is no time to lose and he must please the directors Mr White and Mr Fields .

I take my drink to my desk and seated , I light a cigarette and slowly savour both .This moment of which I have several of during the day is a very important ritual and is the only thing I look forward to when I am in my ' dungeon' as I often think of it as . in fact I measure the whole day in terms of my coffee and lunch breaks . They give me the chance to think and day dream and free me from handling this cloth .

I finish my first coffee ritual and move on to the work bench where Argent has already prepared some orders for me to cut and pack.
'Err Steve , that one for Jaguars , once you've cut the lengths , don't pack them , they're always slow to pay . They won't get away with it this time.The rest of them are all straight forward '.
'Yeah , okay Rob .' So here I go ; cutting material , packing it , sorting out stock and so on. I suppose if Argent was a kind of man that I could get on with the job could have been bearable or even enjoyable .We do get on though , on a superficial level . we talk about the weather and crack little ' work jokes ' .
From Argent's point of view it is purely for the sake of making the working atmosphere more pleasant hopefully more productive. We rarely , if ever , really communicate . I like discussion , but on every occasion that I have tried to prolong a conversation and exchange ideas, I have discovered that Argent's views are so different to mine to the point of getting me annoyed .

Not only that , but when we are in the middle of discussing a T.V. programme he seems to feel guilty about it and quickly draws the discussion to it conclusion in order to concentrate on something more meaningful; the work at hand.If only he could be at least half a rascal , we could be having the odd game of table tennis in wrking hours or either one of us could be shooting off early in the afternoons. but not with Rob Argent this man is loyalty framed and hung on the wall .Sometimes I feel like saying to him that the loyalty he gives cannot be returned by White and Fields for the very reason that Argent , like myself is an employee. Of course he does win little favours from them that he carefully conceals like his train fares paid and possibly even his personal car may very well be put down as a company expense .But how can a dog gain the upper hand on its master ?It can give its all , the master can return some affection and look after it in all sorts of ways. But so what ? One remains a dog , the other a domineering human being. I detest that old working class expression :' You mustn't bite the hand that feeds you .'What nonsense! I would bite of the arm off this company if I was given the chance , or any body I worked for come to that .Not that I am lazy , I just don't agree with the idea of working for somebody else' interest and doing unskilled work and thereby being easily replaceable . Things have changed over the years . People in the rich nations do have a greater degree of freedom and opportunity but on the whole the principle has remained the same , if I had enough money to open a small factory and employed workers at a pittance of £90.00 a week I would be congratulated by the establishment and many of its subjects for showing great initiative and creativity of employment , I might even be elevated to philanthropic status . Of course my motives , if I had been a successful industrialist would be purely selfish and in order to make myself a nice little packet of money . Yet still it would be easy to delude myself and imagine that I have more noble intentions.

In a sense I , in my present position have no commercial or political power whatsoever . I am told what to do every day of my life , I do not have any control over the fruits of my labour and although I have the 'freedom' of leaving Silky Novelties , I can only have the slight chance of finding something better. More likely I could end up in a noisy , dirty factory at similar or worse rates of pay . If I opt out altogether I risk the chance of relying on a fast changing welfare system that asks too many questions . That too is an infringement of one's liberty , to pay back some money to some one who is presently without a job ,the government , after years of ruthlessly taxing that person , doesn't take kindly to it at all. When some body does claim some of his money back off the government , it is referred to as 'Dole money ' and the claimant after being unemployed for some length of time is hounded into finding another job with the threat that if he does not accept 'Suitable employment' , his benefit will be stopped.

The ethics of my situation are interesting and on a small scale represent an aspect of our accepted values . I am on a fixed wage , regardless of the amount of production I get through I am given my wage .I see the invoices floating around here and some of the payments they receive from their customers are colossal . I have no right to turn around to the director Mr White and say on an excellent week:'What are you doing ? you can't pocket all that money I helped to make you owe me some!'.No anything they make in excess of my miserly income is legally and morally theirs for keeps. Yet if I had been caught taking something of value home from the ware house I would be a lowly thief , that is justice.

Argent walks of his little office compartment , heads straight for the sink , a tinkle of cheap china mugs.It's already eleven o'clock that's not bad , time normally sands still here. As he makes the teas has his back turned towards me I stare at him partly with contempt and partly in admiration.He is quite slender in build, especially for a forty year old. In fact he's very petite and has a long narrow face , his only prominent feature being nose which ordinary but large.It makes him resemble a puppet . He is married and has an eight year old son who is his only child. .When he smiles he displays quite and effeminate gaze and often I think I am in the presence of a classic hair dresser.

What makes him tick? he seems delighted to be alive . We live in different time scales to each other . An hour seems like two hours to me whereas for Argent it goes as if it were twenty minutes. He has no 'tea breaks' as such , he drinks tea purely to 'wet his whistle ' as he puts it. To quench his thirst and enable him to carry on.Her often spares a mere ten minutes for his lunch break , maybe the reason that silence prevails in here is that we are so many dimensions apart . He doesn't accept any of the the talk I have to offer so I don't see the bother of keeping up a rapport of the 'work at hand jokes' . On the few occasions that I pretended to show an interest in my job , he got excited , I could see the goose pimples growing on his arms , he then bursts into a very deep and significant discussion speculating on the various permutations of stacking wool and cotton fabrics in an already overloaded warehouse .At the end of the lecture on the subject of 'silly buggers ', he will go to the usual great lengths to congratulate me for being a very concerned worker and probably hoping that I would be manipulated by his 'stroking ' and start to really get hearty about my job . This treatment though can only embarrass me to the point of anger . No thank you . I would rather remain silent ,in my own world if this is the price for company.

Maybe Argent has got it right , maybe he knows some of life's secrets , could well be on higher plane of consciousness,he knows exactly where he is and questions nothing , he lives life spontaneously or rather he is a vessel in which life flows through as pure experience............


'There's your tea Steve'..........Somehow I doubt it .
'Thank you Rob'.
'Arrow parcels should be collecting that lot for New Zealand today ,nice little order that one '.
'Oh good , it'll make some space for us too'. Argent then struts into his office partition , talking aloud in facts and figures , checking his stock figures against his in coming orders. Continuously working in a rhythmical manner . I take my seat and rest my feet , relieving me from the boredom more than the fatigue, I finish a
chocolate in a few seconds and then light up whilst still sipping my drink .

I Wonder if Argent will be going to the main office today. He often does when duty calls .The main Silky Novelty office and show rooms are situated in Oxford Circus , that is where White , the managing director and brain of the company,along with Fields the sales director normally spend their time.
They also have,working with them in there two or three young women who are employed as designers of cloth pattern , these have always been coming and going for the four years I have been in this firm , not that I spend much time there apart from the odd occasion where I am asked to deliver a parcel down there .Whenever I do make an appearance down there though , I forever seem to be introduced to a new team of designers . I found out in due course that the pay was very bad and that many of these designers were on government training schemes whereby the government helps the employers by paying a portion of the employee's salary . I can see somehow a reason for some body in the designer's position wanting to leave , or for that matter it's obvious why White , the managing director would prefer to be continuously employing trainees at a discount price .

Argent,being the key man of the company has connections with all aspects of the company's operations. So often it happens that he has to attend the office to sort out something that nobody else can . I must give it to him though , he is so efficient that he can almost read the minds of the two directors and make them look lost at what they are doing . But it's their damned business though and not his that's what gets me.

Argent , although he knows everything there is to know about the trade he is in, is one of these people that would rather not branch out and try it alone .
He would rather remain part of the team; a good sheep that recognises the shepherd. Even at times when he has gone to great lengths to please his superiors and seen that they have not appreciated it , that will still not change his outlook on life .

Once I saw him filling in a 'Pools' coupon and commented to him that if he had won a large sum of money we would not see him around here. He replied with seriousness that he would never give up his job and that it is too much in his blood . I found that hard to believe at the time , but soon after concluded that his 'job' filled a very important and emotional need in him . This to Argent is his virility , his self expression , his challenge , occupation , identity and alongside his family; his main purpose in life . Without his job , Argent would be naked , insignificant and unjustifiable .

If he does go to the main office today, he will very likely announce it in his formal way and tell me also if he is likely to return to the warehouse and at what time .When he does go there it is often after lunch and normally he informs me that he will be seeing me the next morning . These occasions are my greatest benefits in the ware house . I can do some work at a faster pace then read or use the telephone and near enough do as I please . It's amazing what a work incentive scheme can do.

For fifteen minutes now I have been enjoying my break . I suppose I might as well get up and do something .It's about twenty past eleven now, my next break is at one o' clock and that lasts for an hour where I normally go out for something to eat and walk around for a while . There is no point spending my lunch hour with this man , I want a break , not to watch someone working .From now until one o' clock I work and for stimulation I listen to the radio beside my work bench which I always tune into London's local radio station, the public phone-in and talk show where people phone in and talk to the presenter and his guests. If I couldn't listen to this programme all day I probably would have turned to stone by now . On occasions when White and Fields come over to the warehouse to do some work , which is quite often , I become out numbered ; three chiefs to one Indian . Argent of course being the aspiring third chief. To see the three of them in full flight is something of a profound sexual experience . No sooner do the dynamic duo arrive than off their coats and scramble to examine an important consignment of cloth, then start snipping away to make sample pieces for their customers to see. The three of them together hovering around the place , talking their gibberish puts me into complete isolation .Time after time they reach ecstasy , and in a way I can understand both White and Fields ' thrill at indulging in this legalised form of aggression called 'business' ,but it is always Argent that manages to attain the most orgasms. Many times on these orgiastic visits I have come back to the warehouse from lunch break to see that one of the three lovers had switched off the radio . I took it as an an insult, as if they were saying such things were irritating them , distracting them from what was 'important ' .I was most offended . the radio phone-in programmes that I listen to all day are like a life support system .Whenever this mutinous action occurs without any explanation , I also respond without explanation and discreetly switch the radio back on.


I have another hour and a half until lunch time. Handling this cloth has made my hands very rough over the four years I have been here .Being on my feet all day and moving around, though I cannot say I object to it within itself. So the prospects of this dull working day are building up. 'Arrow Parcels' might be collecting from here ,White and Fields could be visiting on one of their orgies .Best of all possibilities is if Arrow Parcels do not turn up and Argent goes to the main office . Even if I was left to my own devices it is still possible that a lorry driver will enter the warehouse unexpectedly and say: 'I've got 'undred and fifty parcels for ya mate!'

I am a warehouse man . If I go to a party or make new acquaintances in some other way and I am asked what my occupation is, regardless of my numerous previous jobs , I reply that I am a warehouse man . This is my label and people don't care what I really am so long as I have given them a label to latch on to.They can then decide whether I am common and insignificant , therefore not to be taken too seriously , or whether I am somebody worth getting to know and to be admired by virtue of the fact that I have a 'good job' . Either way , by telling somebody that I do a particular job , I cannot understand how that person has got closer to understanding what kind of person I am or what I actually do with my life.


If I made the tabloid head lines by winning the pools or by murdering three people , it would read:'Warehouse man kills three people'. So that as well as knowing that I have become a killer , the reading public can know that I was a warehouse man.

I am only working as a warehouse man at present because I can't find a better job and because the thing that I am really involved with : painting pictures is so difficult to succeed in , in fact almost impossible if one is to take one self seriously and be reasonably honest with the activity . Unless of course one happens to be of genius stature or has friends in the right places.Because of this situation I have come to the conclusion over the past few years of working in this warehouse that I want to rid my self of this burden and devote not only the evenings and weekends to my obsessions and indulgences , but the better part of the working day .This forced me to consider all sorts of ways to produce commercial items that can be somehow related to the visual arts , and if I am successful at least I can be financially independent and do some sort of that bears some resemblence to what I enjoy doing . So far I have produced a range of greetings cards , a calendar , decorative display plates , antique replica and various other commodities . all of which I have not beeen able to market successfully .

Lately I have been spending the working day in the warehouse thinking of of different projects that can be produced and packaged whilst at the same time carrying out the routine tasks in the apparent state of a sleep walker . I can tell by the strange looks I receive from Argent that he notices that I'm not fully present.

Argent is another species , he has no conflict , he takes his work home with him in that breif case he always carries . That's no exaggeration . He often comments that he was thinking about some aspect of the workd whilst at home on the weekend and rushes into the place in the morning anxiously to see if his latest strategy for creating more storage space in an extremely overcrowded warehouse area has worked. If he were in my position , doing my job ,I'm sure he would take a keen interest in the work and contribute something valid to Silky Novelties .He would probably get fed up with it sometimes and do the usual moaning that many working people love to do and hpe for his holiday period to arrive , but when he would be a week into his holidays , he would be just as keen to gete his teeth back iinto the things that matter .Yes if Argent had been in my place he would definitely have been promoted by now. He couldn't spend a whole four years stagnating like Steve Nichols . Argent would have proved himself by now, making a fine example of how it pays to be conscientious.

'Allo mate!' The driver from Arrow parcels has come.
'Alllo there , hope your feeling strong enough I've got fifteen parcels for ya'.These drivers , from my experience are so scared of lifting even the most comforable of packages.
'I don't think I will be feeling strong after that lot though.' .The driver quickly counted the packages then signed the paper work I put before him. I now go and press for the goods lift , Luckily the lift arrived sharply and now we load.This place is so ancient we arrive on the ground floor and then unload the goods into a goods trolley , push the loaded trolley all the way up hill through the yard to the busy road where the driver had parked , and now both panting ,load from the trollley into the vehicle.
'That's your lot ,' I told him , 'I'll probably see ylu next week it be this much tough.'
'Cheers mate !'.The driver closes his doors and drivers off as I push the trolley back into its position in the yard . As I do this I catch a glimpse of Argent overlooking from the warehouse window .It's not the look of austerity , but of anxiety .If anything had gone wrong , for example , like Nichols forgetting to dispatch all the parcels due to his absent mindedness , Argent would have shot down the to the rescue at a high speed with the parcel over his shoulder , claiming another victory for Silky Novelties .

' That was a nice clearance!".said Argent , with glee in his eyes as I strolled back into the walls of the warehouse .
'Yeah .' I smiled .I knew the exact words he was going to use after I had made the 'successful clearance' and returned to the warehouse .

It's coming on to quarter past twelve . Argent is heading for the kettle. Good I'll have this break and then it won't be long until I have that break of breaks ; the lunch break .

I finish my tea and return to the work bench , there's nothing much on the radio , our arrogant chat show host ,Ben Haste is interviewing some pompous actor .What a combination !. Haste seems to change his tone of voice completely when talking to and established , well ,known and loved thespian.Instead of his harsh , patronising monologue that he blasts at his general public phone-in callers he seems to behave much more humble and enthusiastic as though he is actually enjoying the conversation . I only wish I could find the conversation slightly interesting so that lunch time would appear to arrive more quickly .

There's a swallow flying by , so it was actualy worth getting out of bed today , seeing that bird has raised my spirits .Its rhythmic bursts of flight and elegent form are a real treat to observe , especially when it descends in its cahracteristic manner .

How can I ever comare with that beautiful creature ,It works for it living , the best way it knows how, doing nothing that seems alien to itself, it rests and plays and sings and mates. It has no leaders to pay tax to and most of all , when it sees nasty weather , it flees to another land . It poses no threat to the earth and does not need to be taught anything . And to think that I was taught at school that we humans are the most intelligent animals on this planet : pure bias .

These dammed rolls of fabric , they are so similar.I'm looking for colour code 3 of of design 47 ,its floral design is almost identical to color four , less a shade of pink . Oh how on earth did I end up here in this cul-de- sac ? How much longer will I take this lying down ? why am I performing these far removed mechanical functions?

Saved by the God of time! it's two minutes to one o' clock , time to wash
my hands and go. It looks like dull and cloudy weather , with the threat of rain but
that will not stop me .I've done it before through wind and snow.

'See you later Rob'.
'Bye Steve'.

Where shall I head for this hour? This is when time speeds up . I sometimes go for fish and chips in my favourite place.


I occasionally really enjoy a sit- down meal and this man really does make his cod taste nice , and seeing that I go there regularly , he often asks me if I don't mind waiting a few minutes for him to fry me a fresh piece .

Many times though I bring sandwiches with me and take a stroll up Camden High Street , normally ending up in the local book store .It's quite big store and more
often than not I end up engrossed in words and images mainly to do with art history or ancient and modern philosophy . No sooner than I get into a serious browse , it's time to return to the warehouse . I think I'd rather avoid that particualr routine today. Other times , especially when it's sunny , I go down to a quiet spot on the Camden Canal , dirty though is, there is a nice peacefulness
there, away from the bustling high street . There , I eat my sandwiches and gaze , or sometimes do pencil sketches of my surroundings .
Well I haven't brought sandwiches with me today , I had no time in the morning, I usually prepare the night before, failing that, I usually leave it out all together and take the opportunity of eating something warm from the high street shops. Today I will head for the bakers.

In 'The Little Baker's Shop' the queue is quite 'big'I have to wait a good ten minutes before I can order a cornish pasty and a sausage roll.Today I think it is going to be walking up and down the high street . What a busy high street this is, I suppose it is quite typical of a London high street , apart from the fact that it is a little more close to the city centre and hence more neurotic . Shops and shops for the consumer , and who is the real 'consumer '? Definitely not us little fish pacing up and down this high street .


If the swallow was burdened with human 'intelligence', and cursed with never ending thoughts ,what would it see from its heights ? And what would it say? Would it say: 'Well now that I've thought about it and can see that you lot down there are human and superior becaue you know about maths and English , I'm beginnning to feel bad about being a swallow . I shall now beg the Gods to transform me into a worthy man.' Nonsense , as if the swallow is so ignorant not to know what it is in the first place!

The speed in which people move in these big cities is alarming . Because of increasing technology , things appear to be done more quickly but still we are not satisfied and want to get that extra edge in order to get something done a second earlier thereby taking minutes off our life span for every one of those seconds . This is definitely an addictive cancer worse than alcohol or pot smoking .

It's about a quarter to two , I better get back to the warehouse .It'll take about one minute to get there allowing me time to have a coffee before I get up and start for the afternoon.

his work and blabbering on the telephone about cloth, spilling sentences about quantities , weights , colour numbers and code numbers, quality numbers and texture codes to carton mumbers all with a twinkle in his eyes and lump in the throat . I know he has not had a break even for his lunch , he has inserted some pieces of bread in his mouth , possibly with cheese and pickle and and followed it with forgetful sips of tea while at the same time doing his duty for the company . Truly a great circus performer . He didn't even notice my entrance into the place , which is not uncommon for him.

On the radio this hour the resident marriage counsellor does an hour's programme dealing with callers' problems from great to small. I always enjoy this programme, though that may be an insensitive statement to make .The counsellor deals with problems ranging from bereavement down to the microscopically petty relationship upsets. The help and advice could have similar problems. Over the years I have been tuning into this programme ,it has taught me a great deal about human behaviour and helped me to look at my own reflexes.

It's coming onto three o' clock and Argent hasn't shown any signs of buggering off to the main office to see his masters . The afternoon will drag, if he does go ,the opposite will happen , by the time I have taken the opportunity to do my daily physical exercise in work hours , have afternoon coffee and made a personal telephone call it will be time to pack up , the scoundrel , look at him , he's just now got off his bum and rocketed over to the far corner of the warehouse singing to himself and selecting several pieces of cloth , the excitement on his face is that of a man who knows that he is in the centre of the universe . He cruises gracefully back to his office cubicle and dials frantically the office number and White , the director answers .

'Hello Phil, those 64011's , I've got all the sample pieces I need , and Mr Hall from Regal Gowns won't be going to the office this afternoon , so I shant be coming over this afternoon . I've got plenty to be getting on with here and by the way the twelve cartons of from Japan will be..............'

There's my answer , it's me and him again . I'll try hard to get involved with my work , that will make the time fly . Hmmm....if I finish this cutting I can then go on and pack it . After I've done that I can then cut some more lengths of material , then tidy up for variety , rearrange some stock then cut some more lengths of material............Rubbish ! I have been through this before! what I need is a bloody change!. How did I ever get into this abyss of a dungeon and share it with Argent? What has got into the world ? there are so many Argents out there , I've met bank clerks who would risk their own skins and challenge dangerous criminals in order to save some money for an establishment that pays them a pittance , retired people who would not appreciate a few years of liberty to see them through to
their dying day, but would rather continue doing uninteresting work until they died 'on the job' . But I have not yet seen enough people to stand together and say to the London trains service for example , after a recent fare increase;'You want fifty pence extra for this trip? No my friend take five pence more that's reasonable , and by the way , a few million people agree with me including your staff'.

Being with Argent so long is like an unhappy marriage, and for a single person living alone , this is a heavy burden.I drag myself in here five days a week and the first person I talk to is this workaholic. Seeing the expression on the face
of a man that knows he is in the right place at the right time , eager to get his teeth stuck in for the day with such zest is painful . Sometimes he is the only person I've talked to for the whole day which means I've not communicated at all . Being of the opposite disposition myself , I hate the site of him in the morning . The marriage has not worked.

Just finished my final coffee ritual for the day . I stub out my cigarette , wash my cup and carry on packing this large order of goods . The amount of things I
have packed today has reached thousands of pounds in value , although I'm not
interested in the job , I'm not completely asleep , at times hundreds of thousands of pounds pass through my hands in the shape of cloth. I occasionally get a pat on the head when things go well , but the boys and very likely Argent aswell , reap something much more useful.

It's quarter past four , it's all down hill now ,I get so pleased at the prospect of of walking out of here , but the vicious circle will catch up on me and I will be back here again on this very spot as if I have been here forever surrounded by the eternal presence of Argent .

Last summer I broke the monotony . I took a three week holiday in France , even this was under the shadow of my employers' disapproval . I arranged a three week stay at a south westerly resort called Chateau D'Olonnne and when I announced it to Argent he seemed quite vexed but concealing the fact he passed the buck to the big boy White who told me in no uncertain terms that this is not on , and that I should know by now that the comapany rules state that not more than two weeks of the annnual four week holiday allowance can be taken consecutively . These company rules apply to all the staff and even Fields and White himself abide by them . Of course the directors abide by their rules , they can sacrifice a week's holiday for the sake of their business is is their business after all. But what's my business ? apart from personal life: nothing . So there was White telling me to change my holiday from three weeks to two.

Being quite diplomatic though , although I felt grossly insulted by this attack on my personal liberty I told White that I would try and see if I could arrange the dates to be changed by the travel agents with no real intention of doing such a thing After . After several days I told White that I could not change the date and he was left with no further comment to make.

Chateau D'Olonne was a dream, hot and sunny and surprisingly , it reminded me of the Eastern Mediterranean which I have visited several times.The beach was very near the hotel and to walk a few minutes and view the sea was like confronting a primitive and almost eternal god, caressing and latently menacing . As most people have the need to choose their god , make effigies of him and write nonsene about his attributes , demands,powers and rewards to his devotess etc , I think I would choose this particular one as one of my many deities .

I found the local people very lively and friendly , their way way of life was festive and very much for the moment . Drinking wine wasn't as sinful as it is deemed here . The languiage had a feminine and powerful beauty about it, and this was amplified by the fact that I could comprehend only a few phrases . I studied French when I was at school and was quuite good at the time , I took the opportunity to try and talk as much as I could to people in their own language.The people in Chateau D'Olonne were quite appreciative and seeing that I was making an effort , went to great lengths to communicate . There is something exciting when two people of the same species divided by the language barrier try to talk to eachother , it's as if the very fact that they are not using a common language elevates their communication to a higher level.

The threee weeks that I spent in Chateau D'Olonne changed me considerably , a strange awareness swept over me , I realisation that I was temporarily alive.

Everything was spoilt when I returned to London , I resumed my duties as the warehouse man thereby sinking into a lifeless stupour . The period to readjust was lengthy , for weeks I was reminiscing and even went to the lengths of reading about Chateau D'Olonne and enquiring about how to go about acquiring accommodation there .But flights of of fancy remained just that and I suppose a memory is better cherished when it remains in the recesses of one's mind , available for recollection when needed.

It's five minutes to five , I've killed another working day at Silky Novelties ,I'll wash my hands and retreat . As I put on my coat I notice that Argent is not making any signs of following suit . 'Are you staying late tonight Rob?'
'Yes , what can I do? there's so much work to be done.'
'Hmmm yeah ............well , I'll see you tomorrow then Rob.'
'See you Steve .' As I walked out of the warehouse I wondered why Argent says things like that , he doesn't mean it .


The traffic was thick as usual for the journey home , I made it at about the usual time . Supper . I shall reheat yesterday's meal , I usually over cook in case I have visitors . I'm not a gregarious type but company of the select few means a great deal , but even they don't frequent my abode regulary , people are so tied down in their own lttle bubbles , even myself ,I don't find time to go out and see the people I rally want to.

Roast Pork chops with rice and salad .It always seems to taste better the second time around . I would have liked to wash down the meal with a couple of glasses of red wine , but tea will have to do.

I've been here in this flat for two and a half years now , it's only a first floor studio flat above a supermarket , situated in a not too busy high street , the main reason I really went for it was because of its quite large balcony overlooking the street . I like living alone . The freedom of solitude is vast , but the line between happy solitude and paiful loneliness is a very faint one and for a man coming onto the age of twenty eight , my life seems to oscillate between the two conditions . This flat was very expensive for a man on my salary to buy , in theory it just isn't viable . But living in London there seems to be no choice , either buy a property you can't afford or pay for a very high rent to a landlord thereby being two down by having an employer and a landlord to dominate you . The price of just sitting down staring at the wall opposite me ,if it were to be calculated by a mathematician , would prove to be so high that after being at work for a week and paying all necessary bills etc , then doing exactly that , and realsing that's about all I can afford to do- stare at that damned wall , I realise that I would rather not be doing that and that I would be much happpier breaking the routine and be out of here somewhere enjoying myself . That feeling only arises when I get very negative . All in all I quite enjoy my pad and besides , I rarely have the time to just sit and stare at the wall because of the various activities that I am always involved with . The possibility of change is what excites me most. But it seems to have become an unchanging possibility only.



The evening passes by so quickly , I ate , I had a bath , I did some physical exercise , nobody came to see me . I did some work on the painting I'm working on called Pygmalion's statue which I have been doing on and off for the past two months , with not much progress and finally I'm tucked up in bed and reading Kafka's 'Metamorphosis'. I have read it before and it's the only one of his stories that has really had me glued to its pages . It's the kind of fiction
that is charged with more factual significance than most 'factual' books can hope to achieve.

I switch off the light at half past one a.am. I can carry on reading for another two hours , and I often do , but it's not worth it ,I often end up paying for it in the morning with extreme tiredness.


* * * * * * *


Today is like any other day I get up at about 7.30 a.m , I haven't got the time to eat anything or even brush my teeth . Before I leave for work in the mornings I normally open the door that leads to my balcony and have a quick look outside.


Busy as normal for this time of morning , a stream of people heading for the train station , others squeezing in desperately tight against eachother in order to be on the same bus. Many in their cars accelarating into snail gear whilst others have already got into the swing of things by counting the pennies come in as they sell chocolates , cigarettes and newspapers , what's more , people are actually buying these things. Some people buy newspapers first thing in the morning and read about all the nasty things that go on in the world with a concern tha is indistiguishable from sheer morbid entertainment .

NO. I don't want this. Yesterday was my final day as an employee of Silky Novelties Ltd , I will never go back there again and delight at the thought of never seeing any one of them again in my life . All of a sudden I'm alive again , it's good to be alive once in a while. I feel hungry.

Every piece of bread that I dipped into the fried egg yolk was charged with a flavour of ecstasy that said more about myself than the thing itself. The same applied to every puff of my cigarette .Where's that telephone directory ? Ah there it is.

'Hello , is that Bevan Estates?........can you tell me the value of my flat please?, it's a first floor studio flat with balcony , situated near '.
'Well it could be anything from the region of thirty eight and forty five thousand pounds , but it's impossible to say over the phone, if you would like a valuation ........'
'........... Okay , thank you , so I'll expect him over at about three o'clock this afternoon then ........bye.'

How about that then , I bought this place for twenty thousand pounds. Whatever it sells for I will have made some money........in a quantity that I have never before held in my hands. London is an amazing place , most places in comparison seem like cheap toy towns , properties of course being much cheaper in many other places . Look at this glossy brochure published by property developers based in Chateau D'Olonne . Why stay here? , a brother , a sister and both parents but if they are that close , they can come and see me there, just as I can see them here.
Of course things could go sour , I will need some kind of work , but on the other hand , if my home is fully paid for ,unlike my circumstances here , I will have more to my pocket any way. I will be near the Sea God , I will learn a new language and be fluent at it , wine will accompany my every meal . the town will not be over populated and most of all I will meet a lusty French woman .

I don't have much to lose . Even if things did go wrong , what I am about to do is still the right thing because this very moment is precious , I'm alive and flying and this is what counts . It will take possibly two or three months for things to reach a conclusion , but as soon as that moment arrives I will fly in a southerly direction .

I am going to live in Chateau D'Olonne.