Friday November 15, 2002:
You’ll never guess who I shared an elevator ride with today. That’s right, the head honcho, the big cheese, the Administrator himself.
Dr Wallace Breen.
I was all on my own, just heading back from my lunch break, when he stepped inside. It was weird. I’ve seen him on the covers of magazines before, but he was shorter in real life. But I’ll admit I was a little star-struck. I mean, what the hell do you say to the guy people call this century’s Thomas Edison?
It never does any harm to try and ingratiate yourself with the fat cats, so I cleared my throat and said:
“G’morning Dr Breen. Nice day aint it?”
He smiled at me, but only with his teeth, and said: “So I’m told.”
I was a bit thrown by that, so I just said: “I’m Barney by the way. Barney Calhoun. I just started here.”
“Oh yes?” he said. “And how are you finding it?”
“Yeah, it’s great, yeah,” I said, trying to sound enthusiastic about sitting on my ass all day.
“Terrific,” he said “Well, just remember Mr Coloon, if you ever have any issues at all then feel free to relay them to me. My door is always open.”
“It’s Cal-houn sir,” I said, before I could help myself. “With an ‘l.'”
His eyes flashed, but he just patted me on the shoulder and said: “Of course. Well, thank you for all your hard work here Mr ‘Calhoun With An L’.”
Before I could say anything else, the elevator dinged and he stepped out. I flipped him off as the doors slid shut again. ‘Mr Calhoun With An L.’ Who does he think he is? Supreme Leader of the World, or something? Sheesh…
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