The Diary of Dwayne the Pain
by Georgia Maclean-Henry aka "Gizz"
Have you ever worked in an office? Those who have know that there is always an arse-hole who makes your life hell, and there is invariably always a complete fool who amuses everyone by being, (how shall I put it?)…..an idiot: Always playing the jester, always taking a joke too far, never doing any work. My office contains such a creature, and this is his diary. For the purposes of his protection I shall call him Dwayne.
6th August 2001
First day on the job as a temp. I’m petrified, so I’m glad to find out I’m not the only one starting that day – there’s also a girl called Emma. We both get shown to the filing room, and are left there for the day. It doesn’t take too long before the door opens and in walks a member of the Social Services happy team to ‘welcome’ us. He’s thin with specs, and has a bizarre taste in ties. He introduces himself to me loudly. This is Dwayne.
Turns out that he and Emma used to go to school together, and her remembrances of him are not surprising. “He used to be a nerd.” She mused. I have nothing against nerds. I have years of nerdism under my belt. And I could tell even from these first few minutes that Dwayne is beyond Nerd. Dwayne is another breed altogether.
16th August 2001
After almost 2 weeks of working there, Dwayne suddenly realises I’m a ‘Goth’. He speeds into the filing room like he’s just received a revelation from God and proclaims “I bloody hate bloody Goths!” There is long pause where I guess he was waiting for some sort of response. I sigh and decide to take the bait. “Why?” After rambling on about how they scare him he asks the inevitable question: “Do you like Marilyn Manson?” I used to. “That’s why!” He exclaims triumphantly. “That’s why I hate you lot - bloody Marilyn Manson!” You hate me ‘cos I used to like Marilyn Manson? “Yes – exactly!” That’s a bit odd. “No – HE’S odd! He gets children to cut him open and then gets them to spit in his wounds!” Does he now? “Yes – I’ve seen him!” You’ve seen him? “Yup.” Where? “On a video my friend has” Really? “Yes – it’s disgusting.” I’d like to see it – bring it in so I can watch it. “Um, Ok!”.
And I’ve never seen it to this day.
20th August 2001
Dwayne is sitting at his desk talking to one of the other administrators. On seeing me arrive, his conversation becomes loud enough for all to hear.
“Bloody Marilyn Manson – he ruined that Sweet Dreams song. Hey Lins!” Dwayne calls over to another clerk (His name is Lindsay. Yes he is a man. Apparently boys can be called Lindsay too.) “Lins! She’s a freak! She likes people who bite the heads off live chickens!”
It’s first thing in the morning and I’m not really on form, so the only thing I can say is “Eh??!!”
I then realise he’s on about Marilyn Manson again, and inform him that it was in fact Ozzy Osbourne who ONCE bit the head off a DEAD bird that was thrown at him on stage. It makes no difference however, and Dwayne loudly points out that all men who wear makeup are most definitely gay, and should be beaten “with a stick”.
3rd September 2001
Having a few realisations about Dwayne. Firstly, all the filing I’ve been doing since I’ve been here is Dwayne’s. Everybody else seems to do their own. Perhaps I should thank him – maybe Emma and I were hired in just to clear his huge filing backlog!! Secondly, he enjoys his fights. Every Monday he comes to work early, full of the tales of his glorious weekend. His stories so far consist of how 5, 10, maybe more, blokes start on him, and he takes them all on. All his bouncer friends tell him to “Leave it, mate!”, but he never listens, and always ends up getting a smack in the face. This week’s story has an added bonus – he ended up spending the night with a tramp in jail!
11th September 2001
This is the day I am told that I’m to be made a permanent member of staff. I’m infamous for my bad timing, and this is a classic example – a day I should have been able to celebrate becomes a day of global misery. This week, not surprisingly, no one is in the mood for fun and folly – not even Dwayne.
24th September 2001
In preparation for my permanency, I have been given my own desk, with my own workload. First thing to greet me is my own huge backlog of filing.
Along comes Dwayne carrying a huge pile of files. He perches himself on the end of my desk and announces “I need you to do this.” I laugh and tell him to bugger off – now I’ve got my own work to do. Unfortunately, however, I still haven’t learnt the ways of Dwayne. He tells me the boss said he could give me his filing, ‘cos I’m still “just a temp”. I’m annoyed, but I stupidly believe him, and keep my mouth shut. His filing takes me 2 hours!
1st October 2001
Dwayne’s desk-perching soon becomes habit. In fact most of his time is spent sitting on one desk or another, regaling people with the latest gossip about his personal life. He keeps very little to himself, and is proud of absolutely everything he does. Dwayne is never wrong. Everything Dwayne likes is cool. It’s about this time when I find out he has a rather scary obsession with WWF Wrestling. He knows all the characters, and all their sayings, their stats, their backgrounds, their music. He knows who fought who, and when, and where, and who won, and how long it lasted – and I’m not talking about from just this year. Oh no – he knows everything there is to know about WWF Wrestling since forever! I watched wrestling when I was 10. I thought the Undertaker was cool, but that’s as far as it went!
15th October 2001
I’m down in Reception this week, which is not my idea of fun. It’s near the end of the day and I’m almost happy to see Dwayne stroll in – I’m that bored. Before I can even say hello, he begins telling me about how he ‘Choke Slammed’ his girlfriend’s little brother and made him cry. Not surprisingly I laugh at him: “Proud of beating up a child? You should try doing that to someone your own size!” Unfortunately, again I have not fully learnt his ways – the statement I made was a challenge he couldn’t ignore. So, in front of all the clients waiting to be seen in Reception, he grabs me by the neck, launches me into the air and drops me on the floor!
Picture the scene: I’m on the floor choking and swearing, Dwayne’s waving his arms in the air shouting: “If you SMELLLLLLLLLLLL what the Rock is cooking!!!” and the queue in Reception is getting bigger as the poor buggers are waiting to be served by one of two apparent maniacs!
29th October 2001
It’s desk-perching time again and Dwayne is pissed off. He had some sort of party over the weekend, and one of his friends threw his Anti-Christ Superstar CD out the window. I’m confused.
Isn’t that a Marilyn Manson album? Realising his mistake, he replies “Well, it’s my girlfriend’s CD actually – I was just borrowing it.” Apparently his favourite Manson song is ‘Sweet Dreams’! (I refer you to August 20th !!) On pointing out that ‘Sweet Dreams’ isn’t even on Anti-Christ Superstar, he admits that he got it because he really likes ‘The Beautiful People’. He then starts singing it and gets half way through the chorus, before giving up and breaking into a verse of ‘Star Trekking’!
5th November 2001
I’m now officially permanent. Unfortunately I’m hardly around to enjoy it because I’m off sick with Tonsillitis and suspected Glandular Fever. For the days I’m here, Dwayne his being his usual self – someone bought one of our Practice Supervisors a Santa Claus Hat with flashing lights on as a joke. Dwayne thought it was cool, and bought one for himself. He wears it almost every day.
On the run up to Christmas he’s also been made The Official Organiser of the Christmas Dinner, and he has probably the most bizarre method of coaxing people into going somewhere. He strides round the office visiting every person in turn, asking them if they’re going. If they don’t reply immediately he explains why they should go, including details of every delicious meal on offer. If they still don’t act too keen he explains that they have to go, ‘cos everyone is going – including him (he’s going - surely that’s reason enough). He then lets on that if he gets enough people to go, then him and his girlfriend will get the ‘Honeymoon Suite’ (complete with four-poster bed) for free on the night of the Christmas party. If they still don’t say yes straight away, he tells them “Well you will go, or I’ll beat you with a stick!” Depending who it is he’s talking to, he’ll also call them a ‘bitch’, ‘bint’ or ‘muppet’! I’m not sure why this would encourage anyone to go anywhere, but it seemed to work – almost everyone turned up!
7th December 2001
It’s the night of the Christmas party it’s going pretty well, apart from the food being tougher than a rhino’s arse, and the service being slower than a slug on dope. But everyone is getting up to dance and having a good time anyway, and Dwayne is still wearing his hat. Then the Alien Ant Farm’s version of ‘Smooth Criminal’ comes on, and Dave and I get up to ‘joke-mosh’ to it. It isn’t long before Dwayne joins us. You wouldn’t believe how amusing it looks when someone is trying to head-bang with a flashing Santa Claus hat on!
10th December 2001
Back to work and Dwayne is doing his rounds as usual. Today he’s complaining loudly about the Christmas dinner: “The food was crap, the service was lousy, and I was supposed to be getting the Honeymoon Suite – romantic, luxury four-poster bed, and everything! And what did they give me? A pokey room with two single beds! How romantic is that? We had to push them together!” I begin to laugh. “What? It’s not bloody funny!” Of course it’s funny. Mainly because Dave and I were wonderfully surprised with our room – we weren’t expected a four poster bed! Hey, you don’t think they gave us the wrong rooms by mistake, do you? Dwayne is not amused, and walks off saying something along the line of “Bastards!” Poor Dwayne. Maybe next year, eh?
19th December 2001
In honour of the New Year ahead, Dwayne sends us all a rather unusual calendar, titled “Playgirl Calendar 2002”. It’s got pictures of bizarre looking, half-naked men:
Amusing thing is, it’s actually a calendar for 2001. Well done Dwayne. Even if I’d wanted to use this tasteful timekeeper, its usefulness expires in 12 days!
20 December 2001
Don’t you just love the time before Christmas, when you go in all the shops and they’re playing the same old Christmas songs over and over and over? There’s nothing like hearing George Michael’s “Last Christmas” 47 billion times to get you in the Christmas spirit, is there? And wouldn’t it be jolly if someone brought a stereo into your place of work accompanied by all the Christmas compilation albums ever released? No. It would be very un-jolly. In fact it would be so anti-jolly, that I might have to rip off my ears just so I won’t have to listen to any of those jingly little songs ever, ever again.
Dwayne, however, likes all those merry Christmas songs. He gets to listen to them all the time when he works at Argos, and he misses them when he’s in the office! Surely everyone else must miss the Christmas joy too. What a wonderful idea it would be to force them all to listen to all his lovely Christmas albums all day long!
I must admit, after a week of this, I’m just a tiny bit sick of Jingle Bells. Can’t you play anything else on that stereo of yours? “No.” Replies Dwayne. “Not any of your crap any way. Besides it’s Christmas.” And when are you gonna take that stupid Santa hat off? Dwayne gasps like I’ve committed mega blasphemy. “Don’t you insult Santa Claus! Santa Claus is a God!!” Sigh. According to you The Rock is a God, Hulk Hogan is a God, He-Man is a God, Wizzbit is a God, Mr T is a God, Mickey Mouse is a God, and now you’re telling me Santa Claus is also a God? What kind of freaky religion do you worship?! Dwayne replies by turning up the volume on his stereo. Guess I’m not gonna win this one.
7th January 2002
It’s 2002, and we’re all back at work. Dwayne is planning a romantic holiday with his girlfriend – he’s going to take her to Disneyland, Paris. Unfortunately he has developed a side effect of this, ie: he’s now obsessed with all things Disney. He’s got little toys on his desk and a picture on his desktop of a Disney castle. For a once I’m the one who’s making fun of him. And I take much pleasure in it, because, let’s face it, it’s gay.
Just for a laugh, when he’s at lunch I replace his crappy castle with a rather charming picture of Dani Filth (the singer in Goth band Cradle Of Filth). Dwayne is not amused. The next day I walk in to find him trying to put a picture of Britney Spears on my computer. He doesn’t quite manage it though, and Britney ends up looking rather small and like, well…. a large breasted dwarf! Better luck next time, Dwayne!
25th January 2002
It’s the night of Dwayne’s 20th birthday party, and I’m extremely curious. Knowing what he’s like normally, I can’t begin to imagine what the hell he’ll be like under the influence of alcohol.
The party is being held on the top floor of a pub, and although the ground floor is quite busy when I arrive, Dwayne’s voice is clearly audible above the noise.
When he sees that I’ve arrived he screams “Yaaaaaaaaaay!” and introduces me to some nearby people (I assume he knows them) as his ‘Goth friend’. He then proceeds to tell me 5 or 6 times how many drinks he’s had, and what they were. The amount he’s had changes every time he tells me – but in the end we establish he’s had “Well over 20 Aftershocks, God knows how many Alcopops, and many many pints of beer.” Basically he’s completely rat-arsed.
Later on, he has the absolutely wonderful idea of having a drinking competition with me. He grabs my arm and drags me down the stairs, almost causing me to break my ankles due to the stupidly high heels I’m wearing. I tell him that I’ll buy him a drink for his birthday, to which he replies: “Barman - She’d like 4 Aftershocks please!”. I said one! “Shut the fuck up, you bint – it’s my fucking birthday!” (Who can argue with that?)
As the drinks are being poured he silently contemplates them and then lets out an amazed scream: “Look! There’s a purple one! I want the purple one!” After which he grabs two and downs them one after the other. I am obviously way too sober for this game, but I try to down my two as fast as I can, spilling half the contents over myself in the process. Unfortunately, I lose the first round, but I do manage to have an allergic reaction to the alcohol I spilt on myself, causing me to come out in a weird looking red rash on my mouth. Dwayne, however, is too pissed to notice that I now look like a bad-mannered Vampire, and orders more Aftershocks. After downing these he complains that he’s beginning to feel sick for some reason, and makes his way to the toilets.
As the night draws to a close, Dwayne can hardly stand. He spends the last half-hour or so arguing with a member of the bar staff who’d arranged his party, (AKA: “some fat ugly bitch”), because she won’t let him have his buffet for free. This doesn’t go down to well and he’s asked to leave, which is a bit difficult considering he can’t walk, and probably can’t see very well either. But eventually we all get ejected, with Dwayne safely supported between two friends.
Outside, Dwayne insists that the fun is not over, and declares that he’s coming to the local rock club with me and my friends. His remaining posse are not too hot on the idea, however, and decide to drag him away with them instead. Amusingly we can still hear his screams of protest at the other end of town!
26th February 2002
Dwayne has been off sick for a month. Amusingly, though, this didn’t stop him coming into the office! Apparently he gets so bored on his own at home, that he just can’t stay away!
But for the most part he’s not been here and it’s been peaceful, although admittedly a little dull.
But that’s all about to change.
When he returns he is full of a new-found, bubbling and quite frankly scary enthusiasm for his WWF Wrestling.
Today I tell him that I won’t be here this afternoon, because I’m going to the hospital. He replies via e-mail:
“I’m not having that poor excuse!!!
A good excuse would be that the Rock was going to lay the Smackdown on your candy ass, or Stone Cold was going to hit you with the stunner.
However the best excuse would be that The Deadman had run wild and did the Last Ride on Fred Durst from the roof of the office and you were kicking crap out of his dead corpse!”
Yes. Those are very good excuses for having the afternoon off, Dwayne. Why don’t you try using them on the boss, instead of just saying “Right, I’m going now – won’t be back. Might see you tomorrow. Might not!”
28th February 2002
Continuing the theme of Wrestling related babble - All this week Dwayne sends me countless e-mails, for no other reason than to show off his vast knowledge of WWF quotes. Imagine it: I’m sat at my desk, minding my own business, trying to type a lengthy and complicated letter. But every 5 minutes I’m interrupted by a pop-up telling me I have mail. Imagine my annoyance when I open it to find some interesting quote from Stone Cold Steve Austin, or a warning the Undertaker gave to some bloke I’ve never heard of!.
Just to prove my point, here’s a list of Dwayne’s useful gems:
“What you gonna do when Hulkamania runs wild on you, brother???”
“And that’s the bottom line cos I said so!!!!”
“In the words of DDP that’s not a bad thing that’s a good thing!!”
“Me and my little warriors would run wild over Hulkamania!”
“In the words of Booker T. Tell me you just didn't say that!!!
“I AM LARGER THAN LIFE, A LIVING LEGEND (Y2J)
“IF YOU TRY ME I WILL MAKE YOU FAMOUS (THE UNDERTAKER), COS IM THAT DAMN GOOD (HHH).”
“OH ITS TRUE, ITS DAMN TRUE (KURT ANGLE)”
“IF YOU SMELL WHAT THE ROCK IS COOKING (THE ROCK)”
“WHAT????(STONE COLD STEVE AUSTIN)”
Some would say that a 20 year old Civil Servant from England should NOT know this much about WWF Wrestling……….
6th March 2002
It’s Wednesday and it’s dragging, so I jokingly suggest we leave early and go to the pub. Dwayne thinks this is a great idea and tells the boss “Us two are off down the pub – see ya!” I’m a little surprised at the lack of protest on the matter, but I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so off we go.
When we arrive, Dwayne orders four bottles of ‘Reef’, which we pretty much down straight away. We then get another four bottles, and Dwayne shows me a gambling machine he likes to waste his money on. This evil device is the ‘Itbox’.
“I love the Itbox.” Grins Dwayne as he produces five £1coins.
At first, Virtual Hangman and Virtual Trivial Pursuit are quite entertaining. But after a while, and several more bottles, Dwayne begins to get a little impatient with it all. If he doesn’t know the answer to a question, he’ll say “Come on then!” and forces me to have a guess. If I get it wrong, he screams all sorts of swear words at me, accuses the Itbox of raping him and then bizarrely starts head-butting the machine! If he gets it right, he simply kisses the screen! (Being reminded of all the germs that must be festering on its surface does little to persuade him to stop!)
Dwayne then discovers to his horror, that he has no change left, so he produces a £10 note. I can’t believe he’d waste all that money. “I’ll only use a fiver of it!” he exclaims. Ten Pounds later, and he’s out of money again! He is actually penniless. But then he discovers his office swipe card, and wonders whether he can use it to fool the machine. He can’t. In fact the machine is much cleverer than that, and decides to keep his card!! Refusing to give up, though, Dwayne creates a strange kind of fishing rod made out of straws, and begins trying to hook his swipe card out with it. Foiled again – the Itbox swallows the straws! And then, it refuses to work altogether!
Having realised that perhaps we’d had a little too much to drink, we leave the pub, and the dreaded Itbox behind.
15th March 2002
It’s Friday and the boss is interviewing for a new administrator. I’m sat quietly with an interviewee while she is taking a typing test. Predictably, Dwayne comes striding down to where I’m sitting and loudly asks how I’m doing. I tell him I’m fine and mention that I’m thinking about going to this year’s Ozzfest. “Oh yeah – Ozzfest!” he booms, “I’m going to that!” I look at him with an eyebrow raised. “Really?” I reply, “I hear Cradle are playing this year.” Dwayne grins “I know – I love Cradle, and all that kind of stuff” I mean Cradle as in Cradle of Filth. “Yeah – I know who you mean!” Uh-huh. I didn’t have you down as a black metal kind of person…. “I like everything.” I’ve noticed. “Anyway I’m not going to see them – they’re crap. I’m going to see cool bands like Black Sabbath and Guns ‘n’ Roses!” You reckon they’ll be there do you? “Sure – they’re rock bands aren’t they?”
At this point I give up. I know full well that it is highly unlikely that Black Sabbath or Guns ‘n’ Roses will be gracing the stage of this year’s Ozzfest, but somehow I just don’t have the heart to tell him.
18th March 2002
Dwayne is in a bizarre mood. Amusingly he starts the day by trying to arrange a work meal for Friday 28th March. (28th March is a Thursday…) He then bugs me all day with his desk perching and his recent over-dramatized tales about his love life. And then, with 2 hours of work time to go, he declares he is bored and tells the boss that he is off to the pub, and that I’m going with him. I don’t really want to go, but Dwayne insists that he’ll buy me a couple of drinks, so I agree. Anything for free booze, and a quiet life.
We end up in a pub by the sea front. We’re quite tipsy, and Dwayne goes to the bar to order 2 burgers and chips. I’m surprised. “You’re buying me food? That’s uncharacteristically kind of you!” Dwayne laughs. “Fuck off! These are mine!” Ah, right. Of course. Dwayne starts eating his burgers. “You know what. That barmaid wants me.” Oh no. “Yeah, look – she blatantly keeps looking at me.” She’s probably wondering what planet you’re from. “Shut up – I know what I’m on about!” There’s a brief pause while Dwayne continues eating. “I bet I could pull her.” No way. “Why not?!” You’re not her type. “How the HELL do YOU know?!” I would stand more of a chance pulling her than you would!! “Alright! Let’s have a bet. Whoever gets her phone number first wins!” No! “Why not?” ‘Cos it’s stupid! Besides, we’re both involved with people. “So? No one will know! What d’ya say?” *sigh*.
At this point he finishes the last of his chips and makes his way to the toilet. I figure I should take this opportunity to shut him up, so I go to the bar and start talking to the barmaid, who, we discover, is called Bekki. I tell her about the bet, which she finds most amusing. I then ask if she can write a fake phone number down on a piece of paper with her name on it, and hand it to me when Dwayne comes back from the loo. She obliges, and I triumphantly hand the note over to Dwayne.
“No way, you bitch!” Yes way. “No, I don’t think so – this is a fake!” She wrote it herself! “Bollocks! I’m going to ring it!” Don’t do that, you knob!
Dwayne punches the number into his mobile phone. It rings, and then an old man with an extremely broad Devonshire accent answers.
*Hello?* “Hi, is Bekki there?” *Bekki?* (long pause) *No, I don’t think there’s any Bekki ‘ere.* (Uncontrollable sniggering). “Ok – sorry, mate!” Dwayne ends the call. “Liar!” I can’t believe you just did that! “You didn’t expect me to fall for that?” You didn’t have to phone some old geezer and confuse the crap out of him, though! “Yes I did. Anything to win a bet.” But you didn’t win. “...Shut up. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
29th April 2002
When it comes to intelligent conversation, Dwayne is um…….Well, let me put it this way:
Here is an e-mail conversation we had today:
Dwayne: What do you think of these.............
I'll tell you what I think
Is doesn't matter what you think!!!!
Know your Role!!
Me: I think it's the Rock.
D: As I told you it doesn't matter what you think.
Do you know what my watch is saying??
Me: That guy is well ugly.
D: Thats Stone Cold Steve Austin.
And that’s the Bottom Line Cos Stone Cold Says So
Me: I know who it is. I was just saying he’s ugly.
And THAT'S the bottom line, whether Stone Cold likes it or not!
D: This is my yard and I will be respected, Stone Cold is God, whether all you Taker fans like or not!
Yes – watch out all you ‘Taker fans’! ‘Cos you just don’t know what Dwayne is cooking…in his yard!!
13th May 2002
Dwayne sends me a link to a page where you can find out what WWF wrestler you are.
He is over the moon to discover that he is in fact Stone Cold Steve Austin.
Good for you, Dwayne! You’re a bald, ugly wife beater (allegedly….)!!
27th May 2002
The World Cup has already begun, and Football Fever is devouring all of us who care about such things. As expected, Dwayne is amongst those who care – loudly declaring that all foreigners are tossers, and that THIS will be England’s year.
Today various members of the office are taking part in a sweepstake. We all pay a pound to randomly pick a football team. If our team wins, we win a measly amount of money. For everybody else this is a bit of fun. Dwayne, however, is not everybody else.
“I better bloody get a good bloody team or else!” he mumbles as he chooses his piece of paper.
He picks Costa Rica. “Costa bloody Rica? No fucking way!”
He then wonders round complaining about his misfortune. I pick Spain. Dwayne is restless. The mere thought of losing a bet is obviously excruciatingly painful for him. He announces that he will have another team. “I won’t stop until I get England!” He has another go and picks….England. “Yes!!” Dwayne throws his hands in the air and starts to sing “Three Lions on a shirt!” as loud as he can in the middle of the office. How lucky, Dwayne – now you won’t have to spend a fortune trying to pick England. This, unfortunately is not the end of it. By the end of the day he collects 5 teams at a pound a go, and then continues to boast about how he’s on to a dead winner, and at least ONE of them will win, right? “I can’t lose!” he grins.
His teams are (apparently he cheated to get the last two!): Costa Rica, England, Japan, Germany and Argentina……
7th June 2002
Today is an important match: England versus Argentina – the age-old enemies of football fame. Dwayne is extremely excited about this, and has booked time off to watch it in the pub. Some of us had previously agreed to go with him. What the hell – it’s better than sitting in a boring office.
However, when Dwayne arrives at the office, I start to regret my decision to join him…
Dwayne bursts through the door, and stands triumphantly in the middle of the office.
He has sprayed his hair white, with a bright red cross in the middle. He’s painted an England flag on each cheek, and he is also wearing a big England flag like a cape.
Unfortunately his attempt at spraying his dark brown hair with white spray has left him looking like he’s going prematurely grey, and his England flag has obviously seen better days, as it’s covered in some kind of filth.
He’s walked through town to work like that at 8:30 in the morning!
All I can say is: There is NO WAY I’m going to the pub with you dressed like THAT!! Dwayne giggles “Everyone will be dressed this way” No they won’t. “No, you’re right. They won’t look as good as this - I’m going to be the coolest one there!”
There is a pause as I study his attire. I realise it would be an opportunity missed if I didn’t go with him, and observe the reactions to ‘the coolest person there’! I agree to go, but can’t help pointing out to him that the England flags he’s painted on his face constitute as makeup. And, in Dwayne’s own words (I refer you to 20th August 2001), “all men who wear makeup are most definitely gay, and should be beaten ‘with a stick’.” !
Later that day…
We watched the match, and England won - everyone was happy and singing and hugging etc. Eventually Dwayne and I went back to work, and that should have been the end of it.
Alas, it was not so. Later that day, Dwayne wanted to go back to the pub and celebrate ‘properly’. Why did I agree to go with him? I have NO idea.
There are still a lot of people in the pub, who have been drinking since the early hours of the morning, waiting for the football. To put it bluntly, they’re all pissed.
The mix of alcohol and rowdy football hooligans mean that it isn’t long before a fight breaks out. At the time, I’m ordering a drink at the bar, but I don’t even have to look to know that Dwayne is right in the middle of it all. Eventually I make my way to where all the noise is coming from, and sure enough there is Dwayne - standing toe to toe with a big drunken Scottish bloke, who’s just tried to flatten someone for no apparent reason at all. Dwayne is telling him that he’d better get the hell out of the pub or he’ll be forced to ‘remove’ him. Not surprisingly the Scottish guy decides to ignore Dwayne’s ultimatum, and I watch the brawl that follows with quiet amusement. Nobody seems interested in helping Dwayne fend off the angry mob - not even the bar manager who just struts up and down, waving his arms in the air and screaming “Get out of my pub!” (Funny enough no one pays any attention to him!)
After a while though the brawlers give up and are thrown out, or leave grudgingly. But even though they are gone, Dwayne is still agitated and cursing about how he’s going to ‘sort them all out’! “I’m gonna bloody find them all and: BANG!” (As he says ‘bang’ he pounds his hand with his fist in what I assume is a show of how damn hard he is!)
I laugh at him. He doesn’t realise that his ‘macho’ behaviour is totally voided by the fact he’s got spayed grey hair, a filthy England flag wrapped round his arse like a skirt, and what by now looks like a round pink splodge on each cheek!!!!
Anything to boost Gay Awareness, eh Dwayne?
27th June 2002
After trying to convince everyone to go to the pub to watch England versus Brazil with him at some ungodly hour in the morning, only Emma and I decide to join him. It’s early, and we’re still expected to go to work afterwards, so there’s no drinking, or rowdiness allowed.
I turn up late as usual, and Dwayne is still wearing his England flag. (I’m not sure even took it off…)
We watch the game, and England get slaughtered, as expected, and knocked out of the World Cup. Dwayne is not amused. He gets up and storms out of the pub without saying a word. Emma and I give each other a knowing glance and eventually follow him to the office.
Dwayne spends the rest of the day moaning about how the Brazilians are “a bunch of cheating bastards” He also reckons they should be left in a room alone with him for a while so he can “Chokeslam their cheating arses” etc. He is then suddenly cheered up by remembering that some of his teams in the sweepstake are still in the World Cup. “At least I’m going to win some money from it though!” He then reveals he cheated to get Germany in the sweepstake. “Germany will win. I hate the Nazi bastards, but they better win or I’ll beat them all with a stick!”
30th June 2002
Germany lose and Brazil win the World Cup. Lots of people in the office lost £1 in a silly work sweepstake, but SOMEBODY lost half his beer money for the weekend . Here’s a hint though Dwayne: If you’re going to cheat on a sweepstake, cheat to get the team that’s likely to WIN!!
5th July 2002
It’s a pretty normal day in the office. I’m sitting minding my own business, and Dwayne is heading my way. Oh no, he’s got files!
I am NOT doing your filing! I declare. Dwayne mocks an expression of hurt “I haven’t even said anything yet! Why do you always assume I want something?”
I laugh. Well, what ever it is – I’m not doing it. Dwayne pauses for a moment. And then, without any provocation, or reason I can possibly think of, he starts hitting me on the head with the files whilst singing “Oh Christmas Tree! Oh Christmas Tree!”
What the bloody hell are you doing??!! (he stops) “…I dunno!” (he continues) “Oh Christmas Tree! Oh Christmas Tree! Dah dah dah dah dah dah dahhh!” Stop it!! (he stops) “But I’m bored!” (he continues) I don’t frigging care! Stop hitting me!!! (he stops and looks at me for a moment) “You're boring.” He says, and walks off!
Ok, so I’m boring! I’d rather be boring than have some freaking Christmas carol singing maniac continuously hitting me on the head with a bunch of files!!
10th July 2002
Dwayne sends me this:
Oh Christmas Tree
O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree!
How are thy leaves so verdant!
O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree,
How are thy leaves so verdant!
Not only in the summertime,
But even in winter is thy prime.
O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree,
How are thy leaves so verdant!
O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree,
Much pleasure doth thou bring me!
O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree,
Much pleasure doth thou bring me!
For every year the Christmas tree,
Brings to us all both joy and glee.
O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree,
Much pleasure doth thou bring me!
O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree,
Thy candles shine out brightly!
O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree,
Thy candles shine out brightly!
Each bough doth hold its tiny light,
That makes each toy to sparkle bright.
O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree,
Thy candles shine out brightly!
What is going on with this guy? It is July isn’t it?
By now, as you can imagine, I’m pretty well adjusted to Dwayne’s bizarre little ways. I have devised a way of avoiding choke-slams – when his hand is around my throat I crouch as low to the ground as I can. This lowers my centre of gravity, and he is therefore unable to lift me in the air. Unfortunately the last time he tried it, he caught me off guard. But I got him back, because when he dropped me I ‘accidentally’ landed on his foot! (Just to remind everyone – I work in a normal office, doing a normal office job. The fact that I have to come up with tactical strategies to avoid coming under attack from a maniac every day probably causes people to forget this.)
Fortunately for me, the newest addition to our administrative team has the same regard for Dwayne, as I do. When we’re together, he has little hope of salvation. My new partner in crime is Sam.
Today Sam and I are making fun of Dwayne’s desk décor. He’s got this little doll with ‘Play Boy’ written on it, to which Dwayne has attached a photo of his own face. We decide, unsurprisingly, that it has to go.
So when he is out on lunch, we buy a ballerina in a frilly pink dress from a junk shop across the road, take the photo from the playboy, stick it to the head of the ballerina, and put her on top of Dwayne’s computer. We then hide the playboy, so he can’t swap it back again.
When he comes back from lunch and sees a big pink ballerina, with his face, on his desk, Dwayne informs us both that he knows it must’ve been us, and tells us “You’re dead! You’re so dead!”
Sam and I are quietly hysterical about our small victory, although over the next few days we notice he still has the ballerina on his desk! Is it possible that Dwayne likes his new look?!
27th August 2002
August has been a particularly bad month for Dwayne. He’s got….(how do I put it?)….issues.
Among the worst of his problems is the whole girlfriend saga, which everyone gets to hear about in great, unrelenting, detail every day. Basically the only thing I’ve seen of Dwayne lately has been him either sulking in a corner quietly, or rambling about how he’s going to “…get my ‘boys’ over and kick fuck into…” some guy he knows!
He admits he hasn’t been himself lately, which is probably why, today, he gets put on report for ‘bad behaviour’!!!!
28th August 2002
Dwayne’s Diary has been going for a couple of months now, and it has done very little to deflate Dwayne’s ego. In fact, if anything, it’s made him worse! He actually believes it makes him out to be ‘cool’. He also thinks it will eventually lead him to fame and fortune….
Today I get an e-mail from a friend telling me that someone she knows thinks Dwayne sounds ‘cool’. I then inform Dwayne that he appears to have a fan!
Dwayne is ecstatic.
“Oh my God! My very own fan! How cool is that! I’m famous! And I’ll finally have someone to talk to about wrestling!”
One thing leads to another and Dwayne gets hold of his admirer’s e-mail address.
And so begins the attack of the ……fan.
Here is a progressively more agitated e-mail conversation between Dwayne and his Australian fan (who we’ll name ‘Aussie’) The more bland banter has been edited out.
“Haven't heard from my No.1 Fan in a while, so just thought I’d say hi from the shit pit of a country I live in…”
“…Been up to sod all, so as you can imagine - nothing much to say.
Australia = boredom. Mostly waiting for this English style weather to piss off so I can get to the beach.”
“What do you mean English weather? Have you ever been to England?
Still suffering the effects of last night drinking session with Gizz –
12 pints of Snakebite and black, the itbox, and a fight later, and lets
say the rest is history…”
“Have I been to England? Piss off! Ya think I'd bother going half way
Around the world to freeze to death and watch soccer? BAH!
The itbox and fight sounds a little familiar. Do you do the same bloody stunt everytime you get bladdered?”
“Thats a bit harsh. England is a cool country! Who’s queen governs your fucking country? Lets put it this way: who ever hears about Australia compared to Britain? We sent all of the criminals from our country to yours. We have a better football team, better rugby team, better army, and do you ever hear of any Aussie wrestlers? Very rarely I believe - at least we had the British Bulldog and William Regal, etc…”
“See that's exactly what I'm talking about - England actually consider crap like rugby and soccer as sports. Face it, Aussie rules football is far better than both, and you bloody English just don't have a clue how to play it.
Oh and what about the Olympics and Commonwealth games? Despite our far smaller population, Australia constantly beats the living crap out of the UK, and you guys are like, what - 4 COUNTRIES all jammed together?
…Tell Gizz hello from Aussieland and make sure she beats you in the head...”
“What is the point of Aussie Rules football anyway? It’s not really football, more like a modified version of rugby! And as for the Olympics and commonwealth games - without our queen you wouldn't have any commonwealth games to beat us!
And what about Boxing? Lennox Lewis, undisputed heavyweight champion of the world,
Football - Vinnie Jones, quality player, even better actor.
Snooker, Ronnie O'Sullivan world champion.
Shall I go on ..........
You know what - who cares?...... and that’s the bottom line, ‘cos Dwayne said so!
The Queen - Rules all of the UK and is in charge of the commonwealth, including your small piss ant country. Rule Brittannia - that is all I can say.”
“Modified form of rugby???? Piss off!
Rugby is fat homos butting heads! Aussie rules is far superior in every single way, and actually involves skill rather than sodomy.
…Good god, bringing up snooker now? What fucking country considers that a sport? Next you'll be telling me England has the international itbox champion.
And as fascinating as the queen is, she just looks like a smaller, paler, version of my granny, and isn't she a kraut too?
…Alright that's enough Pommy bashing for now. Email me back if you want some more.”
Strangely, Dwayne didn’t e-mail back, and that’s pretty much where the relationship ended!
In true Dwayne fashion, he seems to have alienated his only fan. And notice how he begins by saying that England is a ‘shit pit’, and ends by defending it as a ‘cool country’ (Rule Britannia? I’m having flashbacks to that football match… *sigh*) And what was that about Vinnie Jones? ‘Quality player, better actor.’?? Oh dear!! Nevermind – maybe your next fan will be more forgiving!
After realising the potential for fan mail, Dwayne has decided he wants a link to his e-mail address on the Diary, so people can tell him how great he is. Mike (The Lord and Master of The Rants) cautiously agrees, and the link is set up.
Number of Dwayne fanatics so far: 1. Will keep you posted on any new developments!!
24th September 2002
Dwayne has written a little song for me. I think it’s supposed to be in the tune of a certain Madonna hit…
Life is a mystery, Gizz must stand alone,
I hear you call my name, and its looks like its time for Dwayne,
Like a drug you e-mail slowly too me, u feel like crying, I close my eyes and you thank god for me, just a prayer I hear you swear, feels like itbox fun.
Just like a prayer you will hear Dwayne scream and swear, just like a dream i am just like I seem, Just like a curse your diary and webpage will take you there.
Hmm… It’s hardly the Beatles, is it.
25th September 2002
We’ve had a boring day at work, and it’s definitely a good time for a couple of pints. Dwayne buys us a load of Snakebite and black, and soon we’re quite drunk. We do the usual set of pubs before Dwayne drags me to the pub by the harbour “just to see if Bekki is there!” (I refer you to the bet we had on 18th March)
Bekki isn’t there. Dwayne laughs. “I don’t care – she was bollocks! I bet there are some other fit barmaids here who want me!”
Yeerg! Can’t you think of anything else? “Why should I? Girls want me – I can’t help that!”
I ignore him as usual and sit down with a bottle of Reef while he orders a burger and chips. I then get a text on my phone from Dave telling me he’ll be there soon. I’m in the middle of reading it, when Dwayne grabs the phone and starts reading through my messages. I know there are a few dodgy ones on there, but I’m too drunk to care, and let him read them. Unfortunately I forget about one particular message…..
Dwayne’s face drops.
“Um?…..What’s this all about?” He ventures.
What? (I frantically try to remember what’s on my phone…)
He reads out loud a message that Dave had sent me the day before:
“Saw Dwayne on the way to the bus stop this morning – what a knob-jockey he is!! Ha ha!!”
I can’t help but allow a huge grin to creep over my face. Especially because, at that very moment, Dave had walked through the door.
I’m not sure what was said ‘cos I escaped to the toilet to avoid any awkwardness. But one thing is for certain – it doesn’t pay to be nosy, Dwayne!!
2nd October 2002
We’ve got a new girl in our office at the moment called Claire. Turns out she was one of my best friends from primary school, and I seem to remember she was very similar to me as a person. Today confirms this.
Claire attempts to send an e-mail to her two friends telling them about the joys of working here. Unfortunately she manages to accidentally send it to everyone in the office. This wouldn’t normally be a problem, however it can be a bit embarrassing if the message goes a little something like this:
“Good morning fellow nine to fives, and how does the day start with you? Here, as usual, the day starts with Mr "I think I am Gods gift to women" acting like a pain in the arse! Apart from that -so far uneventful. Will keep you posted on the ins and outs of Social Service Life!”
Mr ‘I think I am God’s gift to women’? Pain in the arse? Now who could that be??!! And kudos to Claire – you sent it to everyone in the office! Including the boss, and including the very person you were talking about – whoever that may be…….!!! Much respect – you are one of ‘us’ now.
Today Dwayne is in one of his ‘arranging’ moods. I’ve noticed he likes to ‘arrange’ things - it’s a good excuse not to do any real work!
It all begins when he starts singing Christmas carols, prompted by the erection of festive decorations around our town. (It’s almost Halloween - the time of ghouls and ghosts, and they’re hanging jolly tinsel covered Santa Clauses all over the place? Well, I suppose he is kind of scary….) Anyway, so Dwayne gets himself all worked up about the joys of Christmas, and like an excited child starts bouncing up and down and being all loud and aggravating. He then decides to arrange the office Christmas Dinner. Oh joy.
(See last year’s Christmas Dinner arranging antics - his tactics have not changed, only this time he boasts that we have an added incentive to come, as he’s had the most original idea of going to the dinner dressed as Father Christmas…)
So he bugs us all with that for the whole morning, but has now become too full of seasonal happiness to simply sit at his desk afterwards and do some work. After overhearing a conversation between Claire and another member of staff about how it would be a good idea to have a pumpkin competition to celebrate Halloween, Dwayne decides to arrange his very own ……. pumpkin competition.
Now where did he get that idea?!
Back round the office he goes: “I’ve had a great idea for Halloween….!”
24th October 2002
It’s a shit day, and a few of us decide to go for a quick drink after work to wind down.
Dwayne takes this opportunity to regale me with all his recent activities he’s not yet had a chance to tell me about. These include the following story, which I caught the end of:
“….so then I went up to this guy, and I’m like “What’s your problem?” and he said “You’d better not mess with me - I’m S.A.S trained.” So I said “Yeah? Well I’m Torquay Streets trained so you’d better not mess with me either!”.”
After almost pissing myself from laughing so hard, I ask what this ex- S.A.S (Which, for those who wouldn’t know, stands for ‘Special Air Service’ - ie: the Army!) officer said in reply to Dwayne’s claim to be ‘Torquay Streets trained’.
“Oh he didn’t say anything.” Retorts Dwayne. “He just walked away. Guess he was scared. Good job too - I would’ve kicked fuck into ‘im!!”
So let that be a lesson to all you in the armed forces who want to pick on Dwayne - don’t bother, ‘cos you know he’ll beat you down!!
29th October 2002
It’s the day of the Pumpkin Competition, and in true Gizz fashion, I completely forget to bring in a pumpkin for it. Dwayne arrives late and, not surprisingly, is also pumpkinless.
“Oh my god. How SAD!” He declares loudly when he sees the table full of pumpkins.
“You wouldn’t see me entering a crappy pumpkin competition!”
So this isn’t your great idea anymore, Dwayne?
Later Dwayne comes to perch on my desk. He asks which ‘gay pumpkin’ is mine.
“I have no gay pumpkin.” I reply. “I thought the competition was tomorrow!”
Dwayne laughs. “Yeah, yeah - so did I.”
Oh so you forgot now did you? I thought you couldn’t be bothered because it’s so sad and gay!! My mistake obviously.
Lunch time looms, and I’m feeling left out of the whole Halloween experience due to my forgetful head and resulting lack of pumpkin. So before the competition starts, I go with Claire to the local supermarket and buy a tiny clementine. My plan is to draw a face on it and enter it as a very small pumpkin! (Well, it’s the effort that counts, right?) So I get back to the office with my clementine, and proceed to pumpkinize it.
However, I am soon interrupted by Dwayne who, not content with stealing the idea of the Competition itself, decides that my baby pumpkin idea, is also his baby pumpkin idea, and he forces his opinions on how it should be decorated to the extent of basically stealing it, and decorating it himself! The following conversation ensues:
“No no, you don’t want to draw the face on - you have to carve it!
It’s a clementine! You can’t carve a clementine!
“You can if you’re careful.”
“Look give it here I’ll do it.”
Piss off - this is my clementine!
(Dwayne snatches the clementine)
“There’s no point doing this if we aren’t going to do it right.”
We? There’s no ‘we’! This is MY idea!
“By the time I’m finished, our pumpkin is going to kick ass!”
Our pumpkin? Look, give it back and bugger off!
(Dwayne continues to carve the clementine)
Hello? Are you even listening to me?
“Look - SSHH! - I’m nearly done…………”
The argument carries on pretty much like that until Dwayne finishes decorating the poxy clementine. And when it is finally put on the table, and people ask: “Ooh, look at that little one there! Who’s is that?” Dwayne triumphantly declares “That’s mine!”
So in the end I actually had no ‘gay pumpkin’ for the competition at all! I don’t care - the bloody thing didn’t win anyway!
12th November 2002
To Dwayne's joy, he discovers he has a new fan. However he is soon horrified to learn that his latest admirer is a homosexual man from Cuba, who, it seems, would like to go out with him!!
Now I know Dwayne didn't react in a very friendly manner when replying to you, Mr Cuban Guy, but please feel free to try again any time - Dwayne doesn't mean to be a rude, ignorant, fascist pig - he's just....shy!
10th December 2002
There is general un-ease in the workplace at the moment, and let's just say I'm not having a particularly good time of it. Dwayne is also getting stick from various quarters, but seems less bothered by it all - I can only guess it's because he is used to being in trouble!
Whatever the case, we both decide to go to the pub after work today in a lame attempt to find solace at the bottom of a pint.
It's here that I meet one of Dwayne's 'aquaintences'. He is a strangely intimidating man who appears to have had quite a few drinks already. Dwayne, as always, is keen to prove that he's 'in the know', and greets this individual with a loud "Alright mate?" The man seems to recognise Dwayne from somewhere, but obviously has no idea where from, and offers a hand in greeting whilst admitting "Sorry, I can't remember your name...?"
Thankfully I am joined by a few people I know, so I pay little attention to the rest of the conversation - that is until they touch on the subject of mobile phones.
(Now a little while ago Dwayne sold me his brand new phone, basically because he was skint. But, forever afterwards he repeatedly asked me if I would sell it back to him. In his Dwaynesque little world, I guess he couldn't stand having a 'worse' phone than someone else!)
So Dwayne is now extremely happy that the conversation has been steered onto phones, because he's just bought himself a new one.
He stands up (for everyone's full attention of course) and puts one hand in the air as if to hush the crowd. After routing around in his jacket he pulls out his 'state of the art' new phone (with full colour screen and in-built camera no less...)
He proceeds to 'wow' the audience with all the amazing technological features on this phone, and is also proud to boast that he got it for much less than the outrageous asking price, because, of course, he knows all the right people!
In response to all this, Dwayne's friend simply says:
"Did you half-inch it then or what?"
(For those who aren't familiar with Cockney rhyming slang, to 'half-inch' means to pinch, as in to steal.)
Dwayne's face goes completely blank. After a while he manages a feeble:
"I said did you half-inch it?"
"Um....yeah, yeah - I guess so. Well, it's the only way to go really innit?"
We all laugh. Although I'm guessing for different reasons - Dwayne is laughing nervously because he has absolutely no idea what 'half-inching' is, and everyone else is laughing 'cos Dwayne has just made a complete arse out of himself!
Ah, it's that time of year again! You know how much I love Christmas in all its tacky, tinkly splendour! Fortunately for me Dwayne is banned from playing his Christmas tunes this year, and apparently someone has complained about him wearing his 'mandatory' Santa Hat at work! (And I thought I was a Scrooge!) But this doesn't seem to phase Dwayne too much, and he is on top form for tonight - tonight being the Christmas Dinner.
Not surprisingly, he doesn't turn up dressed as Father Christmas, like he promised he would, but he is wearing his infamous hat.
He wastes no time in making sure everyone knows he's there by being as loud and obtrusive as he possibly can, and - joy of joys - he decides to sit on the same table as me for the dinner. I am, of course, completely honoured.
After the meal (which was decidedly better than last year's, although there were no roast potatoes), Dwayne grabs the microphone from the DJ and proceeds to shove it in everybody's faces, demanding that they make a speech. This is mildly amusing for the first 30 seconds or so, but starts to get a little tiresome after a while, as 'DJ Dwayne' glories in 10 minutes of fabulous fame.
The mixture of alcohol and Dwayne's aggravating behaviour doesn't seem to be working very well, and I don't react too kindly when he starts flicking cider in my face. In fact I actually end up grabbing Emma's vodka and coke and throwing it all over him, much to the amusement of everyone else!
The huge coke stain on his new shirt looked quite fetching, I thought - although Dwayne himself didn't seem to agree, especially as a trip to the sink failed to remove it in the slightest.
But soon it is all forgotten, as Dwayne gets more rat-arsed and dances like a loon to every single song that's played - including Alien Ant Farm's version of 'Smooth Criminal'. And yes, he looked just as ridiculous head-banging to it wearing his Santa Hat as he did last year!!
6th January 2003
The day has come for Dwayne to move desks - he is now to be sat at the opposite end of the office from me. (Was it something I said? Maybe the coke stain didn't come out very well!)
Now, to most people, moving a few items from one desk to another would take maybe 30 minutes, possibly an hour if you have a lot of tacky junk like Dwayne has. (Sam and I swapped desks recently, and it took us 10 minutes.)
So how long does it take Dwayne? It takes him one and a half days. And he makes out like it's the most amazing trauma to ever befall him.
"I can't believe I'm moving from here!" he exclaims, flailing his arms in the air for added effect. "Oh my God - It's the end of an era!"
"No no - can't talk right now, I'm busy moving desks."
But you were moving desks yesterday!
"Yes, but I have a lot of stuff. Besides, it's a big moment for me. I've been sat here for four years you know - I have to take my time over these things"
"Oh, I know you'll miss me. But don't worry, I'll be back to bug you every day!"
(Truer words have never been spoken, I'm sure.)
So when he finally completes this emotionally draining move of monumental proportions, I am amused to notice that Dwayne still has the fairy that Sam and I gave him, with a photo of his face stuck to it's head! And what's more, it takes pride of place on his new desk!
Must be a statement of sentimentality, right?
9th January 2003
An audit of Social Services is well under way, which means that everything we do has to be 100%, or as near as we can humanly get to it, because Big Brother is watching us.
Dwayne is not exactly over-joyed with the thought of having to behave himself, but at least is being seen to make an effort today, even if it doesn't go too well...
It's Thursday lunchtime, and Dwayne has forgotten to clock in. Usually, he would have just written in an estimated time, and hoped no one noticed. But because of the Audit he knows that wouldn't go down too well at all, so he comes up with a better plan:
"Gizz, I need your help."
"It is - I need you to help me break in to the clock-in machine. Do you have a paperclip?"
"Just shut up, and come help me!"
So curiosity gets the better of me, and I go to watch Dwayne wrestle with his new nemesis.
It seems getting the cover off the clock-in machine is the easy part. And changing the time so Dwayne can fix his clock-in card is relatively simple as well. Unfortunately though, putting the machine back to the correct time proves a little bit tricky and, for some reason, it has decided today is not Thursday anymore, it's Monday. It takes Dwayne the rest of the day to 'fix' the machine.
However the next day, which should have been Friday, it clocked everyone in on Sunday, and the following Monday it thought it was Tuesday. So even though Dwayne managed to clock in for that lunchtime he'd missed, everyone else had to write in their times, because Dwayne had broken the machine! Well done Dwayne! I'm sure the Audit people will understand...
6th February 2003
It's the day before I go into hospital to have my tonsils removed, and I guess I'm a bit nervous. Dwayne is quick to pick up on this and takes every opportunity to wind me up throughout the day.
As well as all the loose ends I want to tie up before I leave work, I have some 'urgent' photocopying to do. There's a lot of it, and people just won't stop using the damn photocopier. When I finally do get a chance to use it, Dwayne comes striding over.
"Oi!" He exclaims. "What do you think YOU'RE doing using MY photocopier?"
I am just not in the mood.
"I'm photocopying. Now bugger off."
Dwayne fakes an expression of shock and attempts to shove some contracts into the feeder. I grab his papers and throw them at him. "I was here first - wait your bloody turn!" I growl.
I continue trying to photocopy, that is until the photocopier jams.
I feel many swear words brewing inside my head, but I do my best to suppress the wish to destroy things - even when Dwayne steps in yet again, shoving me out of the way and declaring: "You're useless - I'LL handle this!"
A few moments later we manage to get the stupid machine working again, but instead of letting me finish my photocopying, Dwayne proceeds to use it for his own work.
I am not impressed.
"I need to do this NOW!" I protest, "You know, you can be such a bloody twat sometimes!"
A huge grin spreads over Dwayne's face. The desire to rip his head off and shove it up his arse has never been so strong...
So logically you'd think he'd avoid me, being as I'm in such a stress. But no, this is Dwayne we're talking about. I guess he just likes pain and aggravation, and his infuriating antics continue all day.
A few hours later: I'm sat at my desk in the middle of figuring out where to start with a fairly sized pile of paperwork, when I feel the hairs rise on the back of my neck.
(You know those little hairs that react when you're creeped out by something? Well forget those - I'm talking about the ones that rise up when you know you're about to get really bugged and agitated. Let's call them 'Annoyance hairs'.)
Sure enough I turn around to find Dwayne looming behind me. He doesn't even get the chance to open his mouth...
"Look PISS OFF, WILL YOU??!!" I scream. "I can't be arsed with you today, you ...KNOB!"
Dwayne, although obviously a little bit thrown off by my reaction, seems not to get the message that I want him to go away.
"Have a word with yourself! Jesus Christ, I only wanted to use your phone - "
"Use your own bloody phone!" I snap.
Dwayne ignores me and uses my phone. And when he's finished he proceeds to babble on to me about a 'cool new lava lamp' he's just bought. I'm just not getting through to him it seems.
"Oh WAW!" I interrupt sarcastically. "A lava lamp! Gosh, no one's ever owned one of THOSE before! 'BLAH BLAH BLAH - I've got a lava lamp!' Like I really GIVE A SHIT!!!"
There is a stunned silence.
After a few moments Dwayne leans over with a concerned expression on his face, and asks: "Are you sure you're not on drugs?"
I look at him, and laugh.
Maybe I was being unnecessarily psychotic today, but it made me feel a hell of a lot better and, more importantly, it made Dwayne go away.....eventually!
Three weeks ago I had my tonsils removed. I have just spent those 3 long, painful weeks of boredom in a place where yawning is the most torturous experience you could possibly ever imagine in your most horrible nightmares. You could say I’m kind of looking forward to getting back to a normal(ish) state of affairs. So when I turn up at the office for the first time in almost a month, I am a little surprised by Dwayne’s lack of enthusiasm about the return of his favourite punching bag. In fact he seems, for want of a better word, a little …subdued!
The only time I catch a glimpse of the Dwayne we all know and love is when I put through a phone call to him from his favourite client – a man who is almost as infamous to our office as Dwayne himself! Of course I can’t hear what our client is saying, but Dwayne’s part of the conversation consists of:
“-Yes, yes, yes – whatever! Now shut up a minute will you? You have been phoning me up every other day for the past 4 years and you say the same thing over and over and over again, and you know what? I don’t really care! In fact you’re boring me now! You never listen to a word I say anyway so what’s the point? Now I am going to hang up. And if you don’t like it, I’ll send you a complaints form-”
“-and you know where you can shove that!” He adds after the client puts the phone down on him.
A little testy today, Dwayne?
18th March 2003
It’s becoming more and more obvious that something is going on with Dwayne – he’s just not himself. Not that I’m complaining. It’s not as if I enjoy being choke-slammed, believe me! But the atmosphere in the office is a little bit too icy for my liking. There are things afoot.
However the storm that’s been brewing for the past few weeks is about to clear the air… well, almost…
Today Dwayne stomps out of the office announcing he’s going off with ‘stress’ for the next 2 weeks! He spends the next week getting pissed with his mates in the pub across the road, and makes very little effort to hide this fact from his work colleagues, who have been forced to club together to get all his work done for him while he’s off. Then, true to form, he comes back to the office after a week claiming he was simply “bored with being off with stress”.
Dwayne is probably the only person in the whole world who has ever suffered from ‘boring stress’. I would love to be able to turn my stress on and off so conveniently (in between all those therapeutic pub lunches of course – not that I’m bitter or anything).
8th April 2003
Following my unsuccessful interview yesterday for another post, Dwayne comes over to commiserate me. His words of support consist of:
“Wouldn’t let it worry you – I’ve gone for promotion loads of times and they’ve never given me the job either!”
Oh dear lord! I ‘m not in the same league as Dwayne now am I?? Maybe I should start looking for another job!!!
24th April 2003
It’s no revelation that Dwayne can sometimes be a bit stupid. And due to his attempt to hold 6 cups full of boiling water at the same time, without the use of a tray, he ends up with a huge heat blister on his finger. Surely not something to boast about? Wrong! Dwayne proceeds to go round the whole office showing everyone his new ‘war wound’ and regale them with the glorious story of how he got it! And, as if that wasn’t enough, he takes a photo of it with his mobile phone in order to be able to show others who probably won’t get to see it before it pops!!
30th May 2003
It’s the day of Rachel’s leaving party, and all the admin staff are well up for getting pissed. And we do kind of need it…
My night begins with a sunny beer garden, a huge jug of Snakebite and Black, and Dwayne being as miserable as sin. Now this jug was supposed to be shared equally between us, but as Dwayne spends most of the time on his mobile phone asking some guy to shoot his flatmate, I end up drinking most of the Snakebite. It’s not a good start, especially considering I haven’t eaten anything all day.
So I’m already a bit tipsy, and I want to take Dwayne’s stupid phone and shove it where the sun don’t shine, but I refrain and instead suggest another jug of alcohol might be a nice solution to both our woes.
At this point Dwayne realises that the £100 he thought he had in his pocket isn’t in fact there! And what is his explanation? His flatmate must’ve stolen it from him of course!! So not only do I have to lend him £10 for the night, but I have to put up with yet more mobile phone conversations as Dwayne phones the police to report his flatmate, and then various friends who he invites out with us so he can “fuck this guy over”. Oh joy.
2nd June 2003
On returning to work after the rather interesting weekend I’d had, I wasn’t that surprised to learn that Dwayne had told everyone that I was so drunk at the party that he had to virtually carry me home! Oh, well what a hero our Dwayne is! Surely I would have drowned in my own vomit in a filthy ditch after all that bottled water I was drinking in that club! Yes, Dwayne – WATER! It’s the non-alcoholic liquid I was drinking in order to sober up so I didn’t make a complete arse out of myself! You should try it sometime!!
19th June 2003
The time has come for the Social Services Restructuring to finally take effect. As part of this, our office is to move up to the floor above us. (Don’t ask why – I’m sure there’s a perfectly good explanation for this….I’m just not aware of it quite yet!)
Now last time Dwayne moved desks, it took him 1 and ½ days and that was only to move a few metres. So imagine what a drama he’s making about moving up a whole floor. Rather predictably Dwayne takes full advantage of the opportunity the move is giving him for skiving. However, packing his own stuff obviously didn’t take up enough of his time, because he also takes it upon himself to sort out the rest of the office. (Amusingly his own possessions fill up more crates than any other administrator on our floor, and one of them is just full of Christmas decorations!)
First thing to come to my attention is his bizarre wish to wander round disassembling all the notice boards and shelves because they are “a health a safety risk”. Yes, all those dangerous notice boards will surely kill us all because we have decided to move up a floor! Run! Run for your lives! The notice boards are coming!!!!
And then there is the Great Box Expedition. For some reason it is decided that we need a whole lot more cardboard boxes than we actually have, and Dwayne has the excellent idea of going across to Argos and getting some. Well it would have been a good idea if they’d had any boxes, but they didn’t.
“What a shame.” I say rather unenthusiastically, “We’ll just have to make do I guess.”
“Bollocks!” He exclaims in the middle of town, “You know Dwayne – I don’t give up that easily! We’re going round all these shops until we get some boxes!”
“All of them? But it’s raining-“
“Ah, but the longer we look for boxes, the more time we have away from the office – come on! Let’s do this thing!”
And so he drags me from shop to shop, begging for cardboard boxes …in the rain.
It wouldn’t have been so bad if the boss hadn’t previously told us we could come to work wearing ‘rough clothes’ for the next couple of days.
Dwayne is wearing a pair of manky shorts, trainers and a t-shirt that reads:
“SO MANY WOMEN, SO LITTLE TIME!”
…Sometimes I think I just don’t get paid enough.
24th June 2003
It’s the day after the Big Move and I spend most of the time sorting out my beloved Stationery Room. I am interrupted occasionally by Dwayne who thinks it is funny to stack up all the crates in the way of the door so I can’t get out. Eventually he finds his dreaded portable stereo, which he brings into the room. He believes it will lighten the mood if we listen to Christmas carols while we work! (I say ‘we’ work, when in fact all Dwayne does is lie down in the middle of the Stationery Room floor and talk to people on his bastard mobile phone!!)
Anyway, it takes me all day to get half of it sorted and, with half an hour left, I go back out into the office for a break.
Next thing I know Dwayne comes bounding over to me laughing his head off.
“Oh you missed it – it was great!” He sniggers.
“What have you done now?”
“CRASH!! Oh what a legend I am!”
“Are you gonna tell me what you’re babbling on about, or what?”
Dwayne stands up straight and exclaims triumphantly as if he’s won some kind of war:
“I, Dwayne, have broken the Stationery Room!”
He then tells me the story of how he caused a shelf to implode in on itself (he ‘may have leant on it a bit too hard’ apparently) sending its contents crashing to the floor. But not just any old shelf – oh no! It just happens to be the shelf holding all the sodding forms I’ve been sorting out all day long!
I want to kill him. Unfortunately I can’t, because he conveniently decides to take the rest of the week off (without bothering to fix the shelf, by the way) because he’s ‘tired’!!
Dwayne would like to hear from his fans, so we have set up an e-mail address for him! Feel free to send your comments to Dwayne at firstname.lastname@example.org!