Please sir, can I have some more?

A couple of years ago in the winter, the canteen at work started selling styrene bowls of homemade soup with half a bread roll on the morning tea trolley. I was having canned soup everyday for lunch so this was perfect.

At that time we were sitting in the sales office and the trolley man got used to me running out to see if there was soup that day. We then moved to the landing above the factory and on our first day up there, the trolley man came and found me and delivered my soup. I thanked him and made a huge fuss of him. My workmates sulked because they hate it when I get special treatment.

When summer came, the chef stopped making soup and I was disappointed. In January we got a new chef and when she came round on her plant tour, I told her how much I loved soup and she told me she could also eat soup everyday, so she agreed to put it on the menu again.

Since then, we have had two new chefs, but soup is still on the menu. I think the canteen assistants tell them we have to have it.

The man that brings the trolley is Indian and I found out his name - Govinda. As he walks up the stairs each day to put fresh milk in our fridge and my soup on my desk, the little bell that he carries tinkles and I hear it so I start shouting out "yay its Govinda, Govinda is here everybody".

The men I work with get cross because my lunch is hand delivered and they have to walk downstairs and choose theirs from the trolley. They say its discrimination. I tell them its because no one likes them.