20 November 2012 - Dear Dairy #20

Paradise gathers dust on a shelf in Baker Street.

"Ah, Mister... Through. Come in. Have a seat. Would you like a coffee? Tea? A whisky, maybe?

Good. Now...

Nice of you to drop by. You see...

We don't want what you've got. Can't use it, I'm afraid. We normally use people with talent. This stuff of yours is all a bit... you follow where I'm going, don't you?

Why not get a job? A proper one. In an office or something. There's quite a call for people who can write. Reports... minuting meetings. You know the kind of thing. Would give you some security, too.

Lord knows, there's precious little of that in this game.

Mind if I smoke? ...

Hilary? Do you have Mister Through's proofs there?

Hand them to him on the way out, dear.

We usually keep a copy on file. For our records.

Well... very nice meeting you.

Good luck with the job. Remember, good opportunities in clerical work.

Best of luck."