We security guards are regarded as the plebbiest of plebs. But it’s not academics who rule the roost at university,its the likes of the Mocha Seven…I was in the job a week before I walked past the Proctor. His black cloak swirled around his ankles like dry ice. “That’s God,” whispered my boss. I had to look again. I’d never pictured God with a comb-over. He’d just been placed on gardening leave, or which we knew was code for being frog-marched. But why? “near on,” said Anvil, throwing me the patrol cart keys. “Everyone knows bits of the story. We’ll attain a circuit, or near back and glue the bits together.” Continue reading...
Source: theguardian.com