Mary-Lou is the boss of our lab. 58, anorexic and a control freak. Under our breath we call her 'Preying Mantis', 'Skeletor' and 'Bitch'. Each day she arrives 8am on the dot, stalking through the hospital corridors and into the lab, all made up, a mutton dressed as lamb. This morning is like every other. Mary-Lou arrives, overbearing and haughty dressed in a hideously ornamented black blouse, grey mini skirt, high heeled ankle boots and sheer stockings slack and drooping on her nutrient depraved pins. It's all a bit funny really.
Dave is one of two men who works in the Pathology lab. He makes a big joke of posting Rugby World Cup posters around the room and always brings a packed lunch. Dave and Mary-Lou have never seen eye to eye. Coffee cup in hand he leans over to me and whispers 'So, if she bends over I'll be able to see what she had for breakfast. Two fish oil tablets and six sultanas'.
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