In 1973 there was an increase in complaints about odd, mumbling men appearing spontaneously in people's wardrobes. The council allocated funds to have them removed, but their efforts were in vain. No sooner had they expelled a 'wardrobe man' than another would appear in his place. Inexplicably, the men somehow found their way into residents' wardrobes regardless of how well doors and windows had been secured.
When the council realised that the wardrobe men's whispered mumbles were detailed (albeit slowed down, backward) accounts of what they saw and heard from their closeted vantage points, it quickly registered the mysterious men as state employees. Once a week, local council workers recorded the wardrobe men's accounts onto wax reels, processed the audio in vast laboratories and prosecuted residents who contravened any of the local laws, which changed almost daily.
I once heard manic giggling. I shot upstairs only to find my mother red faced leaving the wardrobe. My father abandoned us shortly afterwards. My mother referred to the man as Mr Coalface and/,or Mr Drill bit.
ReplyDeleteIs the typo "council offiicer" intentional?
ReplyDeleteDear Silk-Scarf folks,
ReplyDeleteCould it be possible to ask to Mr Peel (I called him by his first name Tom because he worked in my wardrobe for three weeks in-a-row and it created some links in dispite of the fact that he was on duty) to bring back the light-blue feather boa that disapeared since he left. It does have a sentimental value and he should have asked (don't tell him that). I'm not familiar with your policy, but fading out each time a host is opening the door (while totally forgetting that you are there) or is talking to himself (about the forecast) is not very easy to endure.
It is just a suggestion, but if he had held a string will a little balloon coming out his presence should have been discreetly noticed without any consequences on the work he had to do (I'm glad he did it, like all the other citizens (if the spying was concerning the guilty people only, I'm sure that the ones who had nothing to fear (like me) will take advantage of this (unlike me))). Anyway, he is a very nice gentleman and will be welcomed any time (I still have the same working hours) he could come back to give me back the little item that he probably took accidently with his slightly outdated baise-en-ville.
Mr Heknows.
I only recently, upon a long sleepless vigil at my dear mothers bed of convalescence learned the terrible truth that in fact my paterfamilias was little more than a hollow shell of an empty husk of a half truth at best, and that the true site of my story, my self, my very being, was a lowly government employee of the closeted class as documented by your esteemed reportage, and that between the usual officious duties I had been conceived, a clerical error made flesh, and since that time of revelation my subsequent existence as chief officer of data entry and correction at the bureau of friendship affairs has seemed somehow more ordained and meaningful. Thank you, sirs, for your documentation of often forgotten realities such as mine.
ReplyDeleteIs it strange that my wardrobe man is deaf,blind and mute or do I have a corpse in my cardigan cupboard?
ReplyDeleteAll the old folks propose :"The nose. Knows!And where the dead lie the maggots grows.
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