A special collection

Just wait minute, says Colleague B. to me and I nod and take a seat. Colleague B. is always busy and there is always something on. Something important, of course. At the door-handle cling numerous ties. They look expensive, boring and this alone makes them a perfect match for colleague B.  Somewhere a telephone rings endlessly and I wait for 8….9….10…11 seconds till I can hear B. screaming loudly, why no one  in this hell of an office is able to answer a telephone. While this happens at least twice a day, no one cares anymore, just the rubber-plant in the corner of B.’s office is shaking its thick leaves a bit  or maybe sings quietly: It’s time for another revolution. I listen to B.’s voice on the floor, all idiots, he says to a counterpart I can‘ see. I already know that sorting things out with B. will never ever be fun, because B. knows everything and of course everything better. B. sees himself as a real guy, it took him quite a long time to learn that my name is not „hey“ or „girl“ even if he shouted like an old ban dog. You can smell B. when you walk along the floor, he is very aviricious with everything but not with his after-shave. He sees himself as the only one who is organized, tidy and structured, the born leader and he should be something else than he is, among us idiots as he again shouts across the floor. Idiot, is after“cunt“ his second favorite word. I close my eyes for a minute or two and when I open them again, I see and its for the first time I do so, B. must have been in a real hurry this time, that two drawers of his desk aren’t closed, and obviously colleague B. has a very interesting hobby, or may I better say a collection. But don’t expect stamps ( how boring ), teddy-bears ( how bizarre ), porn-magazines ( how ordinary ), but a  massive collection of used paper tissues, piling up till the edge of the drawers is reached and maybe these are only the collection’s highlights, the Picasso’s and Van Gogh’s of his masterpieces, maybe in the closets of his office even more of these treasures are to be found,and so I ask myself, might it be possible that in the apartment if B., in a golden frame, the first tissue  ever used by B. is presented to the astonished visitors?

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