Scenes
In and Around a Guard-House
The rich luv, just luv to death the secure. Gotta keep em safe; and lottsa not so well-off around the place don’t forget. Stalking ‘em it sometimes feels like when they’re walking to the car door, to the resto and the office. Sends a chill.... Well, that’s overdoin it in these parts, but you know what I mean. Can’t get enough secure. They’ve got state-of-the-art fighter jets, missiles and the like here, if any of the neighbours wanna get narky. But the worry is the dark gardens round the towers, out beside the pool late night and the carparks. What about deliveries? Who really knows what’s lurking in those trucks and vans that come in by the gate? It wouldn’t take much to hurl a rudimentary petrol bomb up against their windows, grab one of the children coming home from school outta the hands of the maids. CCTV, floodlights, gates and barriers need backup from the human element; another layer if nothing else. Therefore Yana @ $70 per 12 hour shift. (Boss gotta pay another $10 levy because he’s a foreigner, never stops reminding him.) What did he say, three through the day and two nights? Beaut gig that particular one, according to Yana, because it allowed plenty of kip on the guardhouse floor under the fan. Enviable slot. The people upstairs don’t know that of course, they think the uniformed Sec. boys are watching out for them every tick of the clock, patrolling the grounds, checking rubbish bins for suspicious parcels. No joke, the really conscientious supers want to know who threw what into the garbage cans
The rich luv, just luv to death the secure. Gotta keep em safe; and lottsa not so well-off around the place don’t forget. Stalking ‘em it sometimes feels like when they’re walking to the car door, to the resto and the office. Sends a chill.... Well, that’s overdoin it in these parts, but you know what I mean. Can’t get enough secure. They’ve got state-of-the-art fighter jets, missiles and the like here, if any of the neighbours wanna get narky. But the worry is the dark gardens round the towers, out beside the pool late night and the carparks. What about deliveries? Who really knows what’s lurking in those trucks and vans that come in by the gate? It wouldn’t take much to hurl a rudimentary petrol bomb up against their windows, grab one of the children coming home from school outta the hands of the maids. CCTV, floodlights, gates and barriers need backup from the human element; another layer if nothing else. Therefore Yana @ $70 per 12 hour shift. (Boss gotta pay another $10 levy because he’s a foreigner, never stops reminding him.) What did he say, three through the day and two nights? Beaut gig that particular one, according to Yana, because it allowed plenty of kip on the guardhouse floor under the fan. Enviable slot. The people upstairs don’t know that of course, they think the uniformed Sec. boys are watching out for them every tick of the clock, patrolling the grounds, checking rubbish bins for suspicious parcels. No joke, the really conscientious supers want to know who threw what into the garbage cans
Fantasies
of a Prince
Yeah,
pretty memorable Charlie caught in that perkiness. Was it a driver/retainer
betrayed or they hacked his phone? You can magine Camilla’s canny courtesan
ways getting the poor sod on a string, poor young Di unable to hold a candle.
Almost unbelievable. I liked too the recent tale: — Charlie needs some quality
time-out meditating at the monastery on Mt. Athos, the biggest and most famous
Orthodox retreat in the Balkans. (Greece near Stamboul.) For the four day stay
C. brings along FORTY-SIX I think it was trunks & suitcases. (Charlie’s
usual routine is five changes of clothes a day. I always wondered how he could
look roses like that alla the time.) Suggests he did his communing with the
single greater power upstairs in his usual suit, tie and lace-ups., otherwise
god mightn’t recog. him and all the prayers and petitions for world peace and
the saving of the rhino fall on deaf ears. Google Prin. C. Athos and see
if you think its leg-pull. I know it sounds false invented, like that tampon
tale. Poor FFFF-er now has to put up with a darkie for daughter-in-law after
his ex-wife almost landed a dirty Arab in the family circle.
NB. Two
more unrelated fragments from email exchanges with a Royal-Watcher down in Oz.
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