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Friday, June 15, 2012

Hot Water

"The bins on fire," my boss told me.

"What?"

"Outside. The Bin. It's on fire."

I looked. It was: smoke was wafting out the top. A lot of smoke. Some idiot had put a lit cigarette into the bin.

I raced to the kitchen, flipped on the tap and threw a bucket under it. I didn't wait for the bucket to fill because I didn't think I'd need all that much water. Within a minute I was outside dumping the water into the bin.

The smoke almost stopped, but then went on as strong as before.

"You're doing something wrong," said a helpful passerby.

"My mistake," I told him. "It was hot water so only made it worse."

I left him trying to sort that one out and raced back inside to re-half-fill the bucket.

This time, when I splashed the water into the bin, the smoke stopped. Mission accomplished. Disaster averted.

"That was so exciting," I told the girls at work, "I'm considering a career change."

When I told my story to Tracey I embellished a bit. "Do you think they'll make me Mr May or Mr December?" I asked, referring to the firefighters' yearly calender of hunks and spunks.

"Mr February," Tracey told me. Then, before I could get a big head, she added, "It's the tiniest month."

Burn.


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About Me

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Bruce Devereaux is one of the nicest people he knows. When not at work he enjoys reading, writing, hiding from his children and not changing nappies.

 

His career, and if we used the term any more loosely an e might fall out, has included a gardener, a personal lender, a console operator, a stop/go man (not as big a bludge as you might think but great if you’re into sunburn, abuse and varicose veins), a cleaner of banks and pubs and, for a very brief period, a door to door salesman (until the last door he knocked on was answered by a very scary woman with tremendously hairy legs).

 

Bruce Devereaux currently works as a forty-five-year-old award winning customer service officer (glass statuette available upon request) for the Bank of Queensland and as a very casual employee for Corrective Services. He likes to believe he excels at both but then he has always been prone to exaggeration.

 

His favourite colour is green, with a picture of Dame Nellie Melba on one side and General Sir John Monash on the other. His favourite flower is self-raising.

 If you see him around town, call his wife immediately - he's probably snuck out and left her alone with all the kids.


 

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