Monday 16 May 2011

A Go-Go A Go-Go Part 1...

This blog is about the merits of the phrase a go-go. I’ve been using it a lot lately and, as bemused as I am about how this little gem made its way into my recent vocabulary, I am finding it exceptionally useful, as I shall illustrate by telling you about my day.

What is A Go-Go? À gogo to use its correct French form, means aplenty, in abundance, galore, lots and lots and lots. Such a small phrase to convey so much. Fantastic.

I began my day at the train station, commuters a go-go rushing to and fro, blocking the station entrance, obstructing the ticket machines, all late, all scurrying about and finally I managed to procure a ticket and elbow my way through the barrier, narrowly avoiding umbrellas and newspapers a go-go. The commute was a blur of too-loud, one-sided conversations on mobile phones, flickering lights, 80mph, dirty windows and fare-jumpers a go-go.

I arrived at the office and all morning it was emails a go-go. Colleagues frantically dragged from one meeting room to another, daybooks and biros poised for the next great idea. Phones ringing out, messages scribbled and stuck on computer screens tiling the office in yellow and black. Too much movement yet nothing accomplished and first priority among it all - cups of tea a go-go.

By 3pm my friend was reaching for the drugs drawer, pounding headache a go-go. There was rattling and clattering from the other side of the desk as unsuitable solutions were cast aside. An old packet of cup-a-soup from months ago crushed into a lump at the back. Various staples for a stapler that no longer works jabbing at searching hands. A bottle of painkillers located, shaken for good measure, then the click click click of the safety cap being released. Finally we are drugs a go-go.

Elloise Hopkins.

1 comment:

  1. This reads like a poem. Maybe you should you write it as one? Rhythm a go-go.