Faces on the food chain gang

 

By Sheryl-Lee Kerr

slkx@hotmail.com

 

 

THE strange habits of two-legged worker mammals are a fine thing to ponder. I have spent many hours observing these creatures in their natural habitat - those oddly tall nests of glass and cement.

 

Now I know what you’re thinking: how do I spot a real-life two-legged worker mammal? Good question, intrepid nature lovers. First, remember, they’re not all the same.

 

The most basic of the species is the Downtrodden dilbertis, that stocky little creature with pens lined across the top pocket, furrowed brow and an innate ability to spring out of the nest at exactly the same time every day. It often makes a guttural noise some linguistic experts have interpreted to be “bloody management”. Warning: do not approach unannounced. It can be highly strung.

 

Then there is that fine creature, the Socialitis butterflyis. In full plumage, the Socialitis butterflyis is characterised by her haze of mating scents, bright coat and hair as high as her stalk-like feet are precarious. She emits high-pitched squeals of “dahling”’ and “gooorgeous”. Harmless unless you get between her and her mobile

phone.

 

At the top end of the foodchain is the Ironfistis chestthumper. This dominant male or female keeps the lower order in line with growls, snorts and occasional bloodless maulings. This creature often has a strange strut as though something has permanently lodged in an uncomfortable bodily crevice. They generally puff out the chests, flail their arms about, roar and stamp their feet most impressively.

They suffer repeated wounds throughout their life, mostly to the back

region.

 

Travelling with them are packs of Hesa yesmanus. These snappy, alert mammals possess a most positive demeanor and, curiously, always seem to be nodding. They’re known to wholeheartedly agree to the need for a  trenchcoat on 45C days and yet, most puzzling, they can be overheard at other times contradicting an affirmation made earlier to Ironfistis.

 

Perhaps the hardiest of beasts is the Slothic resurrectus. One minute, it’s blissfully dozing off at its designated post. But an uncanny sixth sense alerts it to the impending presence of Ironfistis chestthumper, and it’s up and instantly flustered as though it’s been poring over its task for hours.

 

The Itsnotmyfault supremist and Interfering busybodia are so common we will not address them here. But one species worth a second look is The Wistful dreamerius. Surrounded by pictures of far-flung places and clutching a mug that reads “Wish I Were Anywhere Else”, this creature’s mating call is a pronounced sigh. Groups of them can be found clustered around the office coffee machine.

 

But perhaps the rarest of all is Theactual workerite. As it is usually hidden under mountains of paper and by the other worker mammals requiring protection - one has not been heard or sighted for some time. But who knows, intrepid nature lover? This very day we may be so lucky . . .

 

DISCLAIMER: The above characters are fictional and have no bearing

on anyone living or dead (or both) at The Advertiser.

 

 

 

© Advertiser Newspapers & Sheryl-Lee Kerr 1996-2001.  TUE 29 JUL 1997, Page 030