You Reap What You Sow

It’s our annual 'Take Your Lawnmower to Work Day' today, and I’m prepared. I have my lawnmower, a bag full of grass in case it gets peckish, a box of toys in case we want to play, petrol, raincoat, and all that jazz. I’m looking forward to it, though I suppose I’m a little nervous. Last year my mower – Chop Chop – cut up the boss' shirt. He was only trying to be friendly. They laughed it off on the day, but I did notice for a few months afterwards that all the best leads were given to anybody in the office but me. Then there was the incident a few years back, when Jones’ strimmer-cross Snippy ended up in the fountain outside – oh, it was a nightmare. They left soon after that, but I’m sure it was unrelated.

My mower’s a Mountfield, pure bred. Likes eating bread, too. It’s weird like that, but generally well-behaved. I’ve taken him to all kinds of lawns, in different houses and parks, and he never runs out of energy. He’s slowed down a bit, like, but he is nearly thirty, so you can’t blame him. Naturally, the boss owns a ride-on mower. It niggles at me, the way he rides it through the corridors, lets it chew up the carpets, and then leaves all the mess for someone else to clear up. Still, those are the perks when you’re at the top. And they can take their fancy-schmancy mower – called Excelsior, if you can believe that – to the office in a lovely bright van. I have to take my Chop Chop on the subway. Still, I keep telling myself it’ll be a laugh.

I’ve brought some tools with me, too. If I can just loosen Excelsior’s wheels, say, and then the boss maybe has a little accident, I could take over in the top spot. Even if it’s only temporary, I can show people what I’d achieve as manager of Sprinkler Systems ‘R’ Us. Then it’s only a short step to a full-time promotion. It’s going to be perfect. The enquiry will naturally show the boss at fault, distracted by the day’s frivolities. Though, I suppose, it might mean the end of Bring Your Lawnmower to Work Day…