The hierarchy of my office was strict and thoroughly understood. It went; Pete the CEO, then his mistress and sometimes secretary, Serephine.Next came threewholefloors ofoverstressed salespeople. Then me, theinvisible janitor.
It’s true,they all ignored my presence like I was the bastard child of GordonTelemarketing. Ihadn’t had a soulat this company look me in the eye forten years.Itested my invisibletheory after an existential breakdown one weekend.I couldn’t imagine pulling on my blue coveralls and walking through that scuffed back door one more day but I went back to see if I was right.
On my cheek, I drew a large penis any schoolboy would be happy to doodleinto the margins of abook. The head was pointed to my lips and the balls where adorned with rather spikey hair. A proper graffiti, right there on my left cheek, all day and no one said a word. No one noticed.
That day I…
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