reminiscing in the registry

It had been a long time since Charles had been in the registry of his old employers. In fact, he had only ever come down here 3 times in his whole career and two of those times were to go somewhere quiet with one of the new typist girls.

Charles noticed that there were electronic gates in and out of the registry now and felt sorry that there would be no departmental hanky panky occurring in this sub-basement. It was renowned around the organisation and an invite to the registry, from a member of the operational team, was highly sort after by the ladies in the typing pool. It was a far more enjoyable way to spend an afternoon for all parties involved.

Charles was snapped from his revery, by a cough from the junior records clerk in front of him.

“Your desk. A torpedo will be along soon with your documents. Buzz here if you need anything.”

Charles sat and took in the desk, small grey melamine covered with a doorbell buzzer and a plastic tube hanging from overhead. Moments later, with a loud SHUNK, a plastic tube ‘torpedo’ fell on his desk from above. His documents had arrived.

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