The cherry tree

I went to the local shopping centre today with Ben. We both needed to pay money into the bank so it seemed logical that we make the journey together. But aside from that, we always found our conversation ran at an alarmingly intellectual rate whenever the banter was accompanied by a moderate walking pace. It is a strange phenomenon. Perhaps it’s the increase of oxygen intake, together with the higher heart rate and subsequent expansion of the funnel flowing life-juice to the reality-generating brain. Who knows? It’s always best to search for a physiological answer. Science has its merits, despite its feverish rationalisation of everything and its continual dismissal of anything that happens to escape its current worldview, however rancid the paradigm.
I had recently been told about the opening of a bakery in the shopping area, one that was advertising an opportunity for employment. I tried to envisage myself in a white coat and hat, serving sausage rolls and sticky buns to the local shoppers, but it didn’t seem right. But then it never does, does it? I can’t see myself in any position of work until I actually gain it – which, it has to be said, in the context of a pursuit towards immediate employment needs, has been a resounding failure. Our entry into the bare shop floor only epitomised our dire search for work. A man was placing empty baking baskets across two long shelves. We asked him for application forms, which he gladly retrieved from the back of the shop, and we shared in his enthusiasm until we discovered the bakery’s opening date: August 28th. Far too late to solve our immediate monetary needs. We left and laughed at our own misfortunes. A quick visit to the job centre proved the little else on offer. The fact remained that while the centre boasted the latest employment-seeking technology (the implementation of touch-screen computers and on-hand printouts) its average search success rate was woefully inadequate. After that travesty, we made our way back home.