Has the worm turned?

Panicky and Paranoid - the two guys from the warehouse who were with us on the beach on Saturday - have been incredibly nice to me this week. Bless them. Amazing what the fear of losing your job will do to you, and how it will change your attitude towards the person who has the information that could finish you. They even seem to be moving differently around me. They’re trying to walk erect and upright in a way that resembles homo sapiens. Normally they mooch around with what I call ‘The Oasis Strut.’ You know the thing - when Liam Gallagher wannabes in their late teens and twenties walk like they’ve dislocated both shoulders and shit themselves.
I think they’re trying to look as efficient and hard-working as possible, to prove that the drugs aren’t affecting their performances at work.
I’m not sure why they’re bothering. Neither Philippa nor I intend to tell Tom about their ‘weekend habits’ and I don’t think Tom would care anyway, but they don’t need to know that. It’s nicer having them bring me cups of tea and buy me cakes, than having them call me ‘Lizzie’ and throw toy dinosaurs at me.

RC 15-7-10