Risk assessment

Risk assessment

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“What a morning I have had. No, really.

So there’s this yooman, right? Dunno his name cos he wasn’t ringed, but that doesn’t matter – he had, like, a crusty baguette – honestly, it was like, this big – and he was sharing it out. So, there’s the usual scrum going on, and I can’t be doing with it, so I get myself out of the river, don’t I, and I wander over, and he’s all like “Look at me, hand-feeding this swan with my crusty baguette.” But that’s OK, I don’t mind a bit of interaction if there’s bread going – you know what I’m like with wheat products – and it’s all very nice and civilised, even if I did have to have a Serious Word with a couple of geese.

But this yooman, he’s got, like, a young with him – female I think. No, I know – they all look the same to me too, except this one had a lot of fur, and I think I’m right in saying that makes it a female. So anyway, this young wants to have a go at feeding the wild animal too – and he only goes and gives her a piece of crusty baguette.

I mean, with me there, already half off my face on inappropriate baked goods: what could possibly go wrong?

I could have said something, I suppose – but really, it’s not my job to do the risk assessments round here.  Nowhere in my job description does it say ‘risk assessment’. Here, look – here’s what it says:

1. Swim.
2. Look photogenic.
3. Mug tourists.
4. Attempt to fulfil the biological imperative.

Nothing about assessing any risks, right? So I don’t say anything – I just go for the crusty baguette, don’t I? Like anyone would. And then it all goes a bit pear-shaped, and suddenly there’s all this wailing going on, and I’m getting blamed for stuff.

On the plus side, I’d already had most of the crusty baguette.”

There’s more Avon life on Flickr, starting here.