Tuesday, August 15, 2006

When The Routine Bites Hard And Ambitions Are Low 

Here’s a serving suggestion. Eat cherry tomatoes on a conference call. It sounds like somebody’s having a snog and will drive everybody to distraction. It breaks up the routine, I suppose.

“Whoever is making kissing noises, will they stop it now?” said Pestilence, who can’t stomach that kind of thing.
“It’s Keith eating tomatoes again,” said Stella, my eighties style yuppie witch of a team leader.
It was me actually. I was puncturing their skins then slurping the juice, more loudly than I’d realised. I carried on regardless.
“I don’t know who it is,” said Creepy Keith from Accounts, “but it’s not me.”
“Yes it is, you libidinous hippy,” said Stella. “Either that or you’re making out with someone, and everybody knows that’s never going to happen with another human.”

Meanwhile, in water cooler news: we’ve got one.
Stella ambitiously believes it will herald a new era of trendiness and cosmopolitanism. Soon we’ll all be two sizes smaller, dressed like fashion models, and it will become the place for people with great teeth to congregate and discuss last night’s telly, like they do on the telly.

“Yeah, but you also thought,” I reminded her, “that having a vending machine with a cappuccino facility would turn us all into continental café dwelling sophisticates. All that happened was everybody suffered chocolate powder burns and spent the rest of the week lisping.”
“I thought no such thing,” Stella objected.
“You almost bought a beret.”
“That was a joke. I’m funny, remember?” she said, before flouncing off to do linguini with her friend Becky at Mamillas.

“Bring us back some olives,” I called down the corridor.
“I don’t know if you’re sophisticated enough for olives,” she shouted back.
I harrumphed loudly and did my “You think you’re so clever” look, mainly for my own amusement since she was in the foyer by this time.
She rang me from Tabs’ desk on reception.
“What kind do you want?”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” I yelled, forgetting that I was now on the phone. “Get stuffed.”

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