I've been here a week and I think I'm pretty well positioned to start passing judgment on the people I encounter conducting my duties. Being a bigger facility theres a greater array of weird and wonderful folk, but none more stranger then James, the editor who resides in edit 9.
James is an awkward fuck. He's a slim chap, with a kind of 1990s style floppy hair do that fans of Pop Will Eat Itself used to wear. He wears a tatty brown corduroy suit and bright patterned shirts made from organic cotton. No matter what the weather, a old pair of Birkenstocks that look like hes owned them since he stopped growing adorn his feet. If James was any more eco he would actually be a six foot tall Hessian sack labeled "I am not a plastic bag". If James was any more middle class he would be a semi-detached house in Islington.
His messy English gent style is complimented with the latest Blackberry and Macbook Pro, and an immense need for every single technological advancement in his suite, like hes about to guide the next space launch home from the confides of his edit. Fortunately he also insists on configuring all the settings himself (he has an array of USB drives permanently hanging around his neck containing his personal settings for every piece of software ever created), which makes my job slightly easier. I say slightly because theres more to come.
James likes to mate. How do I know this? Well the man has six children, and hes been insisting on bringing in at least three every day the past week due to the late easter holiday break. Another poor runner has to spend the day offering free childcare for his demanding brood; "Tabatha needs a break, you don't mind do you?".
Just like dog owners, people with children think the whole world loves their spawn as much as they do. Personally I'm with the late Bill Hicks on this one: "Childbirth is no more a miracle then eating food and a turd coming out of your ass."
Media kids in general - Tarquin, Rowan and Sasha etc, all seem (according to their parents) to be special little geniuses. One day they might all grow up and rule the world from behind their TV specs, but to me they generally just seem posh and wet. They could expect years of torment from bullies at school, apart from the fact they're probably sent to special little media kids ones where the alpha males are the kids with the latest iphone, instead of the ones who can do something half decent with a football. Media kids are wrapped in layers of cotton wool and protected from the real world, god knows what would happen if they went to a inner city comprehensive, it would be like dropping the famous five into the Bronx.
This is honestly just the tip of the iceberg though. James is currently indulging his love of children with his current edit job, a upcoming cookery series for new mothers called "New Mum in the Kitchen". The production company have already sold the format to a U.S. network retitled "New Mom in the Kitchen". Do you see what they did there? So just what TV needs, a 6x30 of organic whole food recipes for puking, crying newborns, and tips for their post-natally depressed mother's on how to lose that baby flab. James likes to consider himself a method editor and to get himself in the 'zone' he has been demanding that his cappuccinos be made with his 'special milk' which he brings in every morning in a old thermos flask.
Intrigued as to what was so 'special' about his milk, I couldn't help but ask, thinking he'd reply with "We keep goats at home and Tab's gets me fresh milk from them every morning". I couldn't be further from the truth. Tabs indeed does supply the milk fresh, but it doesn't come from goats.
Having six children means that Tabs has had to have a certain amount of milk on tap for years now; and even though its been a while since she popped the last one out, the family (James included) has developed a distinctive taste for her own special blend of Cravendale. This has seen her invest in a breast pump to keep her brood full up on all manner of lactational treats, from breast milkshakes and hot chocolates for the younger ones, to lattes and cappuccinos for James. She has set up a 'no teat' rule on his request; he's insistent that to have the children sucking on her breasts now that they are slightly older would be socially unacceptable. Drinking her milk in a cappuccino seems absolutely fine in his book though!
So thats what I've been doing in the mornings lately, making cappuccinos from Tabs' breastmilk. James seems to love it so much, that he pretty much uses up all his supplies by lunchtime. But fortunately for him, theres a coffee shop round the corner that offers the same service. I am not kidding. So if anyone out there ever fancies it, you too can get yourself a lovely tasty breast milk cappuccino.
You have to wonder whose supplying it though.
Answers on a postcard.........
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