don't sign random pieces of paper

Officer: (plonks down forms for CL and S)
S: (stares at form) what's all this sir?
Officer: Never you mind, just fill it all up and return it asap.
CL: (peers at form) But sir, haven't we already handled this particular form in?
(The officer has, a mere few seconds earlier, made his getaway)
S: No use mate, he's made a run for it. (shrugs) I guess we've better get cracking.

- Couple of hours later -

S: Here are the forms that you wanted sir, both CL's and mine.
Officer: Ah, thank you.
S: (ahem) Sir, wouldn't you tell us a bit more about what the forms are for?
Officer: Oh, the other lot is short of men so we're posting you out during the exercise. Personal signalers to their Master Warrent (Officer) I believe. (Looking slyly at S) Wonder why they're short though...
S: (...) Would it be too late to take back the forms sir?
Officer: (vague smile before making his exit, down stage left)

*footnote* Warrent Officers, are the terror of the army, their main job being to enforce discipline, something they do very well.

S: (sadly informs CL about the outcome)
CL: (shakes head) can't trust 'em officers, not one bit.


---

commitment issues

"You have commitment issues, I understand"

Sharp, slightly condescending and painfully brutal; especially when it means so much to me, more then the dreary job I'm forced into, when it forms a part of the world of hope and dreams I escape into when things gets too boring, too hopeless, too painful.

But yet I understand, perfectly well, logically sound. The issue has spun on its inevitable route; one man cannot serve two masters.

The long wait continues.


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