A few years ago I worked at company with its own
small car park. Next door was St Christopher House, a big tall office block
with reserved parking spaces (people would often get clamped for £50.) One
dinner time I was sat on the wall getting some sun when a car pulled into the
car park. A nervous, breathy woman wound down the window and said she was
desperate to park somewhere as she had an interview for a new job and it
started in five minutes time. I assumed she was going for an interview in the
big office block. I said yes just park where you want.
She parked the
car, got out and put her handbag on the roof while she swapped from flat to
high heels. Her figure-hugging “love-me-for my-brains” dress leant itself more
to a brothel or nightclub than an office but I supposed you had to use what
advantages you had to get a job.
walking away from the office block which was a bit odd. I shouted, “You’ve
forgotten your hand bag.” She took it off the roof and, nervous and flustered,
said she was a nervous wreck as she had to be in The Flying Dutchman pub in
about sixty seconds. I asked if she was being interviewed to be a barmaid but
she said it was for finance job.
it’s a sort of second interview,” she said, “The boss interviewed me in that
office block last week. He must be an alcoholic or something.”
all sounded a bit dodgy to me.
an hour later I looked out of the office window to see the car was still there.
I assume she got the job. Nowadays she’s probably a multi-millionaire, the boss
succumbing to cirrhosis of the liver and leaving her the company. I’m sure that
curvy frock helped.
suppose the above gave me the idea for the painting but who knows how the
subconscious works. Last week I had a dream where Madonna had gone bankrupt and
was working as an ambulance driver (she kept driving on the wrong side of the
road and creating work for herself.) Painting the backs of knees (don’t know
the anatomical term) isn’t easy. I must have dabbed in those little shades and
wiped them off with a rag about ten times.