I love the office at the weekend. Not too often mind, but just now and then; you can get so much done when you haven't got the phone ringing all the time -
Oh! - Sorry, should have mentioned it, I'm in support! Yes, no! Not 'thank you for you're support and I shall wear it always...', silly - computer support. Yes - that's right the guy who responds when you call us up and say 'I wasn't doing anything and all that's left of 'my' Pc is a smoking pile of Bill Gates' best software. Strange isn't it - all these damn machines go spontaneously wrong - still, mustn't grumble, if it wasn't for the computer equivalent of virgin birth we would all be out of a job.
Hey! but that's not what I was going to tell you about. You see we have the reputation of being geeks or nerds, or whatever with the sexual charisma of a passing warthog - well just remember - Fred warthog might just be loved by Michelle warthog - so there.
So I was in the office, server down, changing some of its innards - doesn't matter which bits really - MP3 player on, Pink Floyd's The Division Bell hammering out in my earpieces, so I wasn't paying much attention to anything other than what I was bent over. Didn't think there was anyone else in the building in fact, I mean the main server was out so no one was working.
Then the hand touched my shoulder. I remember just about wetting myself as I half spun round jumping up in shock. Must have hit my head of the server cabinet rack at that point 'cos it all went black...
Came round, laid out on the server room floor - with a headache and Jenny washing my face gently with cold water. It only took about half a second for me to not worry too much about my headache. Jenny had one of her blouses on. Damn near see through. With one of her 'cowpoke bra's on underneath that - what's that - 'cowpoke?" Oh sorry. You know the type - rounds 'em up and heads 'em out... anyway - guaranteed to make a dead man rise, and I didn't think I was that, not unless I really had died and gone to nerd heaven, but then how was Jenny there as well... Damn! I digress.
Anyway there's dear Jenny's chest, breathing distance from me, mesmerising me, tantalising me, curing me of all ill's - quite taking my mind of any problems I might have, other than the fact that Jenny is kneeling astride me in her haste to succour and help this poor injured nerd.
She could see I was coming round, so I groaned a little - for effect you understand - it worked - 'Poor Sven' she says 'I'm so sorry - I didn't mean to startle you like that.'
Vaguely in the background I realise that with a quite extraordinary sense of occasion Pink Floyd are playing in my left earpiece, the only one still attached, the track 'coming back to life'.
This, I guess, is where I realised I really must have scared the hell out of Jenny, because the next thing she does takes my breath away - literally. She hugs me to her rather nicely proportioned bosom and bursts into floods of tears.
Now I am still groggy but not stupid, this is definitely a 'good' thing and seeing as she is also one of our first-aiders I surmise probably part of this first aid 'stuff'. Whatever! It's surely helping me; Mr Happy affirms this general line of thinking by stirring and announcing to all and sundry that not only is he well, unharmed and otherwise OK, but working as well; even if he is being squashed by the nicely rounded ass of the applier of first aid.
Jenny has now progressed to 'kissing away' my general hurt and pain. Hell I must sign up for this first aid stuff - it's damn good, bloody effective - I've almost forgotten the stabbing headache where a certain piece of server racking has attacked my person.