Gerald

Meet Gerald. He's a coworker of mine; the plant manager. 50 years old with grey hair that he darkens with gel or covers with a doo-rag. 

I always get fair warning when Gerald is on his way. There's a jangle of important keys and the casual 'dee-dah-doo' as he hums his day away. 

He comes round the corner with the familiar blue bags over his oily boots. 

"Mornin!" 

"Morning Gerald! How are you?"

"Oh, can't complain."

"Your sinuses playing you up today?"

"Yeah." Snort. "Those dang dogs. Every morning I wake up with their butts in my face, and I'm like, 'what the hell?!' My wife's trying to kill me."

"Oh dear."

It's fair to say that I probably know more about Gerald than I do some of my friends. He tells all. From childhood to the tattoos he gave himself in prison. He grills, drinks beer and "watches the Rangers lose". He has a tone of grandchildren. He laughs at his own jokes with a gruff 'huh-huh-huh' followed by a "I'm just kiddin'". He's allergic to dogs, so naturally he and his wife have two Chihuahuas that sleep with them every night. Sometimes he sleepwalks.

"I woke up last night in the spare bedroom, and I'm like, 'what the hell?!'"

"Did you sleepwalk?"

"Must have done, 'coz I have no idea how that happened. The wife was mad. She thought I'd done it on purpose."  

As well as managing the plant, Gerald is the handy/odd jobs man. He washes the boss's cars every week, he fetches heavy packages, he oils the squeaky doors, he moves the potted plants from point A to point B and back again, .etc.

The thing you notice most about Gerald is that he never stops moving. He paces round and round as he chats to me at reception. I've seen him sit down once. Once in 8 months. On his days off, he always pops in. 

"I need one o’ them Jacuzzi rooms. You know you can rent them out? Me and the wife do that sometimes. To relax."

"But you can’t sit still, Gerald."

"Yeah, I mean, the wife is better at that stuff than me. I’m like, 'what are you meant to do all day, stare at the damn wall?' Hell. I mean, yeah, you can make out, but hell, you can't make out all day. Huh huh huh…”

So there you have it: a snapshot of the one and only Gerald, and as I'm writing this final sentence, I can hear him 'dee-dah-dooing' down the corridor.