Battersea Parker

By: Jimmy Tudeski

CHAPTER 1 – WELCOME TO McBURGER


Oh golly, what a bright and beautiful day it is outside. I haven't even opened my curtains yet, but I can tell it's going to be a lovely day out there already. Not bad coming to the end of October, if I do say so myself.

“Good morning, Mr Parker. You look like you're in delightful form this morning” I sing out to myself, looking in my mirror as I leap out of bed.

As I look myself up and down, knowing I've got exactly forty-two seconds to jump into the shower; if I'm going to stay true to my daily routine, I notice my green pyjamas are looking slightly shabby in the reflection.

“Note to self, Malcolm. After work today, visit the laundrette on the tenth floor and do some washing. Nice fluffy pyjamas are a must for bedtime tonight” I tell myself.



7:26am (Monday 28th October)

Well, that's me showered and feeling nice and clean for work today. Seven twenty-six on the dot, giving me exactly four minutes to get myself dressed as usual.



I walk back into my bedroom and open my wardrobe door. Although I have many clothes to choose from, I always know what I want wear before heading to work. My brown corduroy trousers, my brown cotton blazer, a white dress shirt and my beloved red bow-tie. It really is my favourite outfit and considering I've got one hanging up for every day of the week, it really is what I wear nearly all of the time.

“Trousers pressed to perfection, shirt starched to a very high standard and my black spectacles sitting on my cleanly shaven face. Yes, this is going to be a great day”



7:30am (Monday 28th October)

Once I'm dressed, it's time to head into the kitchen for some breakfast. Here my daily routine is no different and timed perfectly over ten minutes. Although ten minutes seems like a lot of time to eat a piece of toast and drink my cup of tea, it's the only part of the day where I allow myself to slow down a little bit and take it easy.

“Toast buttered on both sides perfectly and MM-mm, it tastes wonderful too”



7:40am (Monday 28th October)

Twenty to eight on the dot and it's now time to leave for work. I check all my plugs are pulled out of the sockets around my apartment, then I walk over to the mirror to give myself a final pep-talk before leaving...

“This is it Malcolm, the day you've been waiting for all your life. Although you say this to yourself every other morning, today you are finally going to ask Sally out on a proper date” I tell myself.



Sally is one of my employees at work; where I am her boss and she's the reason I am able to smile so much these days. She's kind, she's shy and she's extremely beautiful. Honestly, her long brunette hair looks so shiny, her perfume just makes me want to melt and don't get me started on her big brown eyes or her warming smile. I guess when I think about her like this, some people could actually say I sound like some kind of crazy stalker, but this couldn't be further from the truth. I feel so much more than just a physical attraction to Sally, because her smile alone could satisfy my deepest desires for the rest of my life, so how does this sound like something a stalker would say? What am I talking about? People do think I'm a creepy stalker, don't they? That's why I still haven't asked her out yet, isn't it? Oh and the fact that she's only twenty-six years old and I'm... Well, I'm slightly older than her at thirty-five, aren't I? Age doesn't matter though, does it? If two people love each-other, isn't that enough to make the world go round? I think it is, so it's now just a case of getting her to love me back or at least notice me first. I mean, she obviously knows I like her, because everyone teases me about it all the time, but until I've declared my true feelings for her, nothing is ever going to change between us, is it? Why do I always use the same excuse when I'm teased about my feelings for her? Although managers aren't really allowed to date the staff in the workplace, head office have given me special permission to break this rule, so why do I keep hiding behind it and more to the point, what is this thing called a “Book” head office claim they're apparently running on us? Hey, I'm just glad they would never stand in our way, because I would hate to have to choose between my glorious job and the love of my life.

“Good morning, Malcolm my dear” sings the beautiful tone of my eighty-eight year old neighbour in her very strong Chinese accent, as I exit my apartment.

“Good morning, Mrs Pufflewoo” I respond, with a huge smile on my face, knowing she always sets me on my way to work with a massive confidence boost.

“You like noodle soup after work today, Malcolm?” she asks.

“That would be wonderful Mrs Pufflewoo, absolutely wonderful” I answer, telling her like I normally do, that I can't stop or it will make me late, but I really do appreciate the food she always offers me.