Monotone in Moorooka.

So........this morning I went off to Moorooka.It is an interesting place about 10 minutes from home. You can easily imagine you are wandering around Nairobi, what with the colourful inhabitants and unusual aromas from the local shops.I parked in the underground car park for Woolies. A sign screamed 'FOR CUSTOMERS ONLY!'.Well, I am a customer, I just wasn't going in today.Waiting to cross the road I noticed a dead cockroach, covered in ants, lying on the road. It had obviously not waited for the green man.I found my destination, 'Cursa' (I have changed the name for possible legal reasons)....and went in.Derek, for it was he, was sat behind the reception desk. I introduced myself and he fiddled with his computer without even a smile or greeting."What did you say your name was?"I repeated it and he tapped away at his keyboard."Oh, this is your first time. Well, you need this.........and this........and, er........one of these......."He started reaching around and placing different forms and handouts on the counter in front of me."And you will have to fill this in. There is a pen there and if you go in there," he indicated another room," there is a table to sit at." His voice was unusually unexpressive and monotone.I walked off taking my wad of papers and sat at the table in the other room and set about filling it in.Someone somewhere was having trouble coughing up some phlegm.Derek was taking in his dull way to another woman in reception. She sounded Spanish. I couldn't concentrate on what they were saying because I was too busy filling my forms in.When they were done I took them back to Derek."Oh, you are a teacher?" there was a slight bit of intonation in that question."What do you teach?"I always want to say "children" when asked that but answered properly this time."Are you registered?""Yes, I am registered with the Queensland .......er......" I couldn't remember what it was called, ".......thingy."Heck! I sounded professional!"And I am on the Tracer Supply Register." Well I hoped I was. I replied to their email saying they were going to take me off if I didn't respond before the 2oth.I asked them to acknowledge receipt of my email......but had heard nothing.Derek slipped into rote mode reeling off information that he must have had to give out so many times. The coughing started again from a room nearby. Whoever it was they sounded in the throes of death. Derek continued. His shirt collar needed straightening.....it was distracting.An elderly lady wandered out. She was the cougher. I think it was Derek's gran. She was carrying some newspapers. She took them into the room with the table and then came out again.Derek was explaining the streams. I was in Stream A apparently. Stream C are those who need lots of help and support, translators etc to find work, Stream B need some help but Stream A are those who are considered to be work ready and find jobs easily.A young girl arrived and Derek had to deal with her. It was her first time too. Derek had to find all the forms again from their various differing places to give to her.I wondered about suggesting to Derek that he puts all the papers people need on their first visit together so you can hand them a complete pack and look like you know what you are doing instead of a numpty.The girl went into the table room to fill her forms in and Derek slipped back into his monologue. He did not make eye contact, when he looked up he just looked at my beard.....but that was no good, everything below my nose was asleep and the rest was getting ready to drop off.I had to do 20 job enquiries each month and fill in a form to get my payments. I was thinking I could just about manage the first month by putting my CV in schools but heck! who do I apply to after that.....in Stanthorpe? There are only a few schools there!Derek's gran came out  and went to the girl."Hi Melissa, follow me." She took the girl into her Phlegmitorium.'Ah,' I thought, 'if you are Stream B or C you see Derek's gran, but if you are Stream A you are deemed to have enough strength to cope with Derek and just stand for, what feels like, hours at reception.Derek had finished....he nudged me awake from my torpor and gave me a few more bits of paper."So, what do you teach?"As well as all his other skills, he was attentive to."Children" I said.