Michael Holden's All ears

For reasons too tedious to reveal, I spent a good part of last week in railway arches full of old office furniture. In one of these I passed by two men, measuring desks and discussing domestic relocation. Man 1 (considering a desk) "This wouldn't go in your place?" Man 2 (looking at it as though it were diseased) "Wouldn't want it." Man 1 "You moved yet?" Man 2 "I can't. The boards are all wormed up. Gotta sort that first." Man 1 "What about your landlord?" Man 2 "He's gone berserk – in his own quiet way. He built a barricade on the stairs yesterday, so I couldn't get in." Man 1 (like he knew what he was talking about) "That's no good. Why don't you just stick your gear in storage and kip somewhere else for a while?" Man 2 "How much does that cost?" Man 1 (his platitude unmasked) "I dunno. I don't really know anything about it. It's just one of those things people say, isn't it? 'Stick it in storage.' How much can it be, though?" Man 2 "It's not money, it's the double load. You don't want a double load." Man 1 "Double load of what?" Man 2 "Load in, load out, load in again. Two trips, two jobs. Double load." Man 1 (noticing another desk) "What do you think of that one?" Man 2 (blinking with scorn) "Shite." I found his attitude quite admirable, not only was he not about to carry anything twice, he was careful about what he picked up in the first place.