Rabbits

I work in an office.

About 3-4 days per week I am based at the "home" office. Which is to say the office of the company I work for. On the other 1-2 days per week I am at a customer site providing wisdom and instruction in exchange for cash. Think of it as being my contribution to the greater good.

When I am at my home office, I have a cubicle of my very own. Like untold millions around the world, I am seated in an area that, if I were some sort of farm animal, would be considered cruel and inhumane. I am, I suppose, a battery worker.

One of the very few benefits of such an arrangement is that I am entertained by the day-to-day domestic situations of my colleagues. Over the past few weeks, an Iranian colleague who, for the purpose of this blog, I shall refer to as Darius, has been desperately attempting to secure accommodation. His current landlord has indicated a desire to relieve himself of the burden of having actual tenants and so my Iranian friend has been having hushed conversations with prospective landlords. Usually along the lines of, "yes, that's me well yes I am nah, that guy was just making trouble, so I said there's no way I'm paying and just told him to get stuffed."

Around this time the conversation become ever more distant as Darius makes his way from his cubicle to one of our meeting rooms. Some time later he will reappear and moodily hammer away at his keyboard for a time before announcing that "people just don't trust anybody any more" or some similar such observation based on man's inhumanity to man. Often vaguely related to the capricious nature of prospective landlords too.

Darius is often engaged in conversation at this point by another of my cubicle neighbours. This chap (I shall refer to him as Sunil) could be called a friend of Darius as they are often engaged in amiable chit-chat with each other and are given to taking lunch together. A sanguine yet laconic fellow, Sunil is given to making a small observation that a landlord must take care of his own interests and then listening sympathetically while Darius bemoans the iniquities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men.

The communication problem is sometimes compounded by the difficulty presented in having English is a second language, which is the case for both of them. Whilst I would not describe either as 'heavily accented', each of them has a distinct mode of speech. This sometimes leads to confusion.

Today, Darius returned from an errand and remarked that "Rabbit Photo is not at Macquarie any more." Macquarie being the local shopping centre you see.

"What is rapid photo?" asked Sunil with an idiosyncratic lateral head wobble.
"Not rapid, rabbit. It's rabbit photo" replied Darius
"There is a rabbit?"
"No. It's a photo place. You know, like one-hour photos."
"Ah! it's rapid."
"no. It's called Rabbit photos! RABBIT"
"So it's rapid rabbit photos." said Sunil, head wobbling all the more emphatically and clearly pleased with his his witty retort.
I couldn't resist.
"What are you talking about rapid photo?" I asked.
Darius was clearly frustrated. "It's not rapid, it RABBIT! You know R-A-B-I-T ... QUACK QUACK!!"

I can only presume that Iranian rabbits are rather more vocally skilled than Australian rabbits.

Today's chikenz-points go to the first person to spot the movie quote and name the movie.