If life were a bowl of cherries...

04/21/2008

2 Funny Stories and 7 not so unusual things:

1.    Only in the movies?

Please note that all circumstances have been changed in this story to save embarrassment… The punch-line is still the same.

A long day at the office – they all are really aren’t they? This particular day had been shorter than most as the final hour or so had involved a “brief” visit to the Technical Advisory Body (TAB in boss-speak). The actual issue – setting up the PR system for a presentation next Thursday – had taken all of 6 minutes and the rest of the time had been spent in genial conversation and mild banter.

“Yes, well… you know how it goes…. She seems to be managing fine, not too embarrassed – well at least she doesn’t blush much when I see her…” Luke Briar’s (known by his surname for some reason that had been long-since forgotten) voice drifted through the haze of Rhi’s coffee and landed softly in the depths of her consciousness.

Curiosity piqued her interjection was more than a little blunt (or to the point as I’m sure she would rather have it described), “Who? What? Why? When?”

Ok, maybe blunt would be the best description. The questions were rebuked harshly with an emphatic insistence that the person in question would not their “situation” to be broadcast across the entire company. This was followed rapidly by a selection of retorts, the most convincing of which seemed to insist that Rhi should be told as well as Sam because she was trustworthy and he wasn’t. At this Sam objected vehemently – notably not to the accusation of his indiscretion.

The time passed and various tactics were used in attempts to obtain the information. Briar’s drink was stolen (and warmed), biscuits were with-held, buttons were pressed that shouldn’t have been, bribes offered, blackmail suggested; rewards and threats heaped one on to the other, and still Briar did not budge. He had the moral high ground and apparently rather liked the view.

The hour passed and 5:30 came, and went again with surprising agility. And still Rhi had not discovered the gossip. It had been an amusing afternoon and in any case it was hardly essential that she know. A few last quips to Briar and she would go home.

“Well I know it was one of the secretaries... I’ll just go ask them.”

“No! Don’t! They’ll know it was me.”

“Yes, but they’ll also know you didn’t tell me… mind you, I doubt that will bother them. So you’d better tell me just to make sure. I know it’s something to do with that visiting Professor from Princeton talking about … oh God even I can’t remember, some sort of client psychology jargon.”

“Psychology of Clients and their response to advertising… It isn’t that great anyway. All that happened was that one of the secretaries refused to let the Professor in because they were female and she’d been told that the visitor was a Professor Terri McMalon. Hardly side-splitting.”

Rhi grinned, “Amusing… no not life-changing, but amusing none-the-less. I’ll see you next week then when I can’t get this stupid presentation to work and start frothing at the mouth?”

“Sure. But don’t make a point of it. I know that Alison is looking for promotion and having that gossip broadcast around would do her no favours at all.”

Rhi looked behind her, wide-eyed and gripping the door for support as her face broke into a grin.

“Shit” was all Briar could say, “Shit, Shit, Shit Shit, Shit, Shit,” and Rhi dissolved into fits of hysteria.

She was still giggling as she collected her bag and rummaged for her keys.

It had been a long day, yes, but shorter than many.



2.    Could have happened to anyone.

It really could have happened to anyone. It isn’t even as though I consciously did anything wrong… just a slight misjudgement on my part with some less fortunate consequences. It really could have happened to anyone. I suppose the more important thing is that it happened to me.

So I chose and rigged a boat, a 420 to be precise. I always love sailing the 420s, heavy and not the most manoeuvrable of dinghies, but fast (comparatively) and they have space to move around easily in. Then I was given a gift of crew, some poor year nine kid who had sailed once before – last week in light wind and in a pico with a friend.

Having been advised not to laugh on the lee shore of the spit (and head off on a near reach) but move my vessel around to the other side, I duly complied and stuck my new team-mate into the front to keep him out of the way. Everything was ready and I had even explained to him how to put the centreboard down as soon as we were out deep enough. All that needed doing was to launch the boat and jump in ready to grab the tiller and mainsheet and sail off on an easy run – less efficient but ultimately less complicated or scary for inexperienced sailors. Experience has taught me differently.

The second part – gaining control of the boat was easy enough, the sails could be left to do what they pleased, and the rudders/tillers on a 420 I find much easier to manage in a hurry than on the laser series. It was the first part of the plan that caused me a problem.

I think a little history is needed here. I sailed on and off through the summer. I sailed 420s solo. I sailed in light winds. Very few boats sail well in light winds. Very few boats sail particularly well on a run without a spinnaker.
The only mistake I actually made was to misjudge the speed the boat would travel in decent wind. I misjudged by about 30cm, if that. Hardly critical? Well… that 30cm landed me in the water behind my boat when I jumped.

The wind caught the sails and she went like a dream. With my lonely crewmember ashen faced staring blankly at where I should have landed.

Apparently the boat dragged me some 30m across the lagoon before I managed to swim around. I persuaded my crew to lean over my side and let me climb in at the shrouds. (No mean feat I assume you as he was convinced he’d capsize the boat with us both on the same side and kept moving away from me just as I got a hold.) I climbed in, tacked around, and headed out into the lagoon.

Next accident was to gybe just before a gust.

He didn’t want to helm that day.

7. I didn’t wear a Jacket to Assembly – even though I was performing.
6. I lived mostly off toast and butter… four or five pieces in fact to make up for break / lunch /
5. I stole chocolate from Paul – thank you
4. I spend a sizable portion of the day in the music school – oboe, recital notes, talking to Sutcliff and SJ
3. I spent a sizable portion of the day on msn – but I also worked whilst I did that.
2. I had 30 minutes of timetabled lessons – unusually I actually worked for 15 minutes of it; walking to the Kent room and logging on to the incomprehensibly slow school network occupied the other 15 minutes.
1. I ache all over – a side effect of sailing for 2 hours and dancing for 4… but triceps and abs are killing (and that is all over for me!! Before you quibble… Stuart! (or Kit/Stephen/Steve/Paul/Em…) ... ☹ Happy pain though so ☺

xXx

20:32 Posted in Complete Random Junk! , Fun , Life , Office Blog , School | Permalink | Comments (0) | Email this

05/11/2007

Departmental

I could see she had something on her mind... so could everyone else I think - well almost everyone else. As usual the boss managed to walk in jovial and blind as ever, and opened the days proceedings with insults, ridicule and a healthy dash of chauvinism. The "precious" thing visibly flinched at his banter, maybe a little more than something then.

gfd

Bert caught my eye as she walked in. Well I think he did, he has an irksome habbit of that. I can never be quite sure what he means, whether he is in jest or ernest, whether an action was intentional or purely coincidental. I suppose it may be a bit of both, but that just seems like a cop out answer. He might have been trying to warn me or he might not, either way he completely failed to prepare me for what happened next.

gfd

Can I suggest any motives behind his actions? Yes. Can I prove any of my theories? No. It is entirely possible that for some reason Bert decided that today was the day when one too many people had walked into the room and dumped all of their files, papers, stationary, coffee and clothing onto his desk. It might have been the case that for once he had just decided to loose it. Maybe he was bored. Maybe he was fed up (nothing new there). But it isn't every day you see a grown man throw a full scale temper tantrum.

gfd

It was actually fairly systematic. He moved along from the door to his computer steadily weeding out everything he couldn't recognise as his. By weeding out I mean throwing across the room. Rhi's laptop was fortunately elsewhere, but the case and it's contents found their way to the door (and all her files soon followed). The pile of papers ended up by the far window - I swear you couldn't throw paper that far without making an aeroplane first. The jacket flew quite gracefully into Jamie's face and to put the icing on the cake (which incidentally was not touched despite belonging to me) the hole punch was thrown rather heavily against the wall. The tuneful accompaniment to this outburst was a steady crescendo of noise punctuated by explitives and the occasional thud as more objects hit the floor.

gfd

I have to confess I was laughing too hard at the colour of his face (redenning in proportion to his volume) to pay much attention to his words. Rhi managed to top everything off. Breaking out of her reverie for a few minutes she took it upon herself to "help". I almost doubled over as she picked up the first of his pens and handed it to him with a smile. Confused he took it and put it back where it had been, so she picked up the next. The process continued until he slammed the final item down back onto his desk with a stamp

gfd

Of course that would be when the boss walked back into the room.

gfd

Trying to empathise with d'Enovers is something I avidly avoid, but it's not difficult to imagine his thoughts as he tried to step over the pile of junk in the doorway. I don't quite know what shocked him more. The five beetroot faces expressing varying degrees of mania? The barricade? The tidy desk? Or the thousand or so small paper circles about 5mm in diameter which were now strewn across the floor.

"T'was Perkin's," Bert finally managed to mumble through gritted teeth - he didn't dare to turn around. Rhi's wordless outrage contradicted this and I have to say that both looked as guilty (and contrite) as the other. We were all still giggling, but the good 80cm distance from the crime scene immediately put us out of questioning.

"So this is when the MD walked in yes? Conference Room... NOW Perkins!" No surprises then that d'Enovers would simply ignore the entire thing. What repsonsability is it of his if his minions decide to play war with the office?

Rhi left - suddenly very calm in a way that reminded me ominously of "The Green Mile". I didn't know she was that scared about the whole presentation thing or I would have offered more help. But then again I don't know a lot of things.

Bert returned to his desktop as though nothing had happened. And I found myself wondering once again how much more than me he knows. And how much he hides. Why today would he go to such extreme measures to clear his desk (knowing full well that at 8:30am sharp my coffee will be back in it's standard position at his left elbow)?

Or why today would he go to such extreme measures to make a colleugue smile?

gfd

I was still wondering when Rhi returned and left again - followed by his wishes of good luck.

Some people just know things and to be honest, after today, maybe I'm glad I don't.

xXx

21:05 Posted in Office Blog | Permalink | Comments (0) | Email this