CAN YOU PLEASE EXPLAIN THIS TO ME?

by Ma Merle

“I have some unsettling news,” I said to Agnes as I ushered her through my front door. “My company told me that apparently, I am no longer required at my job. I feel insulted and offended. It’s all the rage you know, to feel offended. Well, I most certainly do right now.”

“Merle, are you saying that you don’t have a job anymore? “Agnes looked amazed and rightfully so. She would obviously know what an asset I have been to that company for the past eight months.

“Yes, that is exactly what I am saying and it’s because I am old, I am quite sure of it. I have a good mind to take them to the fair.”

Agnes looked even more amazed. “To the fair? Why on earth would you take someone who has just sacked you to the fair Merle? And what fair? There hasn’t been a fair around here for donkeys’ years. Oh Merle, you have completely lost me on this one.”

“The fair Agnes, please keep up. They look after people who have been wrongfully sacked. My son told me about them. They help out people in my situation and I am going to call them tomorrow.” How can Agnes not know these things? Surely she remembers her own working years. Then again, maybe not. It has been a very long time for her. Not like me who likes to go off and contribute to society even in my maturing years by helping to keep the wheels of commerce oiled.

“Merle, I just worked it out,” Agnes yelled at me excitedly. She has such a bad habit of doing that, it’s her poor hearing I suppose. Her eyes were wide like saucers, as though she was looking at one of those bars of chocolates she loves so much. “You mean Fair Work. Oh, for a minute I thought you had gone a bit silly,” she said as she giggled and jiggled about, snorting along with it. She’s a strange friend at times and I do believe that marriage to Fred has made her even stranger.

“Well, whatever their technical name is Agnes, I am calling them tomorrow. The company had the audacity to tell me that they are discontinuing that side of their business where they send people like me out to snoop on shop staff to see if they are up to scratch. As if that is

“Merle, it actually sounds like a very valid reason why they don’t need you anymore if you think about it. I mean the job just isn’t there for you anymore, is it?”

I glared at her. “You’re never on my side, are you Agnes? You just assume I am in the wrong every time.”

Agnes held up her hands placatingly. “Oh, please Merle, I didn’t mean to offend you at all. I was just thinking logically.”

“Are you implying I am not logical?” I grimaced at Agnes and her horrid insults.

“Merle, no, um oh please don’t get upset with me. Just phone Fair Work tomorrow and hopefully you will feel better.”

Agnes can be so thoughtless sometimes. Here I was feeling vulnerable and victimised and all she could do was see it from someone else’s point of view. What kind of friend is she? I decided that I really needed to calm down. I glared at Agnes for a moment and then huffed off to my pantry as I said, “I have decided to pour myself a glass of whisky.” I dusted off the bottle and poured a nip into a glass and then added some ice. Would you like one too Agnes?” I asked as an after-thought, not really interested in her response.

Agnes shook her head. “Er, no thank you Merle. It’s far too early for me.” She looked as guilty as she should be feeling.

I no sooner picked up my drink than there was a knock at the door. Still holding on to my glass of whisky I opened it. Of all the people, it was Penelope Pickles from the Wednesday group.

“Oh my,” she immediately said, her mouth agape. “Drinking at this time of the day, Merle. I would never have thought.” Standing right behind her were Michelle and Dorothy.

“No, I, no I just poured this for Agnes.” I fumbled around and promptly put the glass on the table in front of Agnes. “There you go Agnes,” I said while sweetly smiling.

Agnes sat like a deer in the headlights for a moment and then started to speak but I quickly cut her off. “Yes,” I said to the ladies who were staring at Agnes in amazement, ‘but in her defence, this is completely out of character for her but she has had a very bad day and she thought a quick nip might be helpful. I can vouch for the fact that she hardly ever drinks.” Agnes looked even more confused, so I quickly ushered the ladies outside the front door and asked what they had come for.

“Well Merle,” Michelle started to speak and Penelope talked right over the top of her which is a bad habit of hers and everyone knows it. “We came to tell you that our little Wednesday syndicate has had a win on the Lotto.” This was amazing news and I was suddenly feeling on top of the world again. Penelope said that they did not know how much but would tell me when they put the ticket in tomorrow. She wanted to give me the heads up as they were all very excited and already starting to make plans on how to spend the money. They left pretty quickly and I hurried inside to tell Agnes my good news.

“Merle, you just threw me under the bus,” she exclaimed indignantly. “You know that was not my drink at all.”

“Oh Agnes, don’t worry about any of that, I have just won on the Lotto. I don’t care about that silly job anymore. I don’t even need the money for that matter. Oh, the world does have a way of rewarding those who are worthy.”

Agnes frowned and once again I noticed the deep furrows on her forehead when she does that. She must make a conscious effort to stop frowning I thought to myself.

“Anyway,” I continued, “now the whisky is to celebrate. Are you sure you don’t want one Agnes?”

“Certainly not,” she said in a rather unusual tone.

Why are some people so moody? Was she jealous of my good fortune? Can anyone explain? Anyone?