"Amel-ee-shore! Benn-ee-shore! Front and center!" The Mountie, a native English speaker, knows exactly what these words mean and Amel, like a puppy dog, can pick up the context from the Moo's tone of voice. They come trotting over.

"This travel claim here for Ambassador Salber. He put on the original claim that he wants to be paid in EURO and you have made a payment voucher in dollars."

Amel explains. "His secretary called and asked us to change it to dollars."

"No, no, no" insists the Moo. This is teaching opportunity. "How does anybody looking at this know it's not just a mistake? How does the Treasury Department know which currency to pay? Boys, you have to put lots of notes to make everything clear. You have to always assume the next person looking at any document you make will be an idiot."

"So, I must spend eight hours every day thinking like an idiot?" asks Amel. He knows I won't be mad, wisecracking is allowed in the easy-going atmosphere of the big accounting room.

"Amel-ee-shore, it's much worse than that. You must think like an intelligent man and make papers to be used by idiots."

"Policeman have to think like criminals," the Mountie muses.

"That's right, you're a policeman in your home country," says Amel.

"For the last few years I was a deputy liaison officer."

"They need a new liaison officer at the Conflict Prevention Centre," says Dinara who should know because she does the payroll. "Why don't you apply?"

Mountie looks around, affectionately, at all his new friends in the big accounting room. "Then I wouldn't be Benn-ee-shore."

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