At work the other day, my husband (HeWhoWorks) found a couple of large cardboard boxes that were to be thrown out. They were just what we needed to store our little used (ok, never used) camping gear so he thought he’d rescue them.
As he left work with the boxes that evening, the security guard on the gate asked him what they were and what precisely he was doing with them. HeWhoWorks explained, in his best Marcel Marceau impression, about the camping gear and how perfect these, otherwise totally useless, boxes were. The security guard – imagine Donatella Versace with a large beer belly and moustache – nodded encouragingly before pointing at the boxes and barking “Paperwork?”
HWW again tried to explain that the boxes were rubbish and of no use to anyone but him. The security guard again barked “Paperwork?” HWW winked and suggested the security guard could just look the other way whilst HWW walked through the gate with them. Gasp of horror from the security guard: allow something to happen without completing the correct forms? In triplicate? HWW was obviously deranged and uno straniero (a foreigner) who had no idea of the correct way things should be done. Needless to say, HWW lost the battle and sheepishly returned them to his office where his Italian colleagues laughed at his stupidity for even attempting such an operation. And the boxes were consigned to the “recycling”…
BARBED WORDS 