Feb 03, 2005 02:16 PM
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Suj, the Big Boss at Huge Super-Modern Office, observes this on a secret inspection...
09:00 hrs
Corridor leading to reception and lobby,
Huge Super-Modern Office
José Veteran, dressed in a crisp two-piece, tie adjusted with geometric precision exactly seven centimeters off the collar button, walks determinedly down. Just then, one of his colleagues Desmond Doyle joins him.
“What’s on the sched?” asks Desmond in a very crisp and clear accent.
“Interesting,” says Veteran as he nods briskly. “Have a coffee appointment with Charlotte—she has something to share—at StarBucks at ten. Afternoon, we have this long-ish ‘social’.”
“Longish social. French?”
“French. 3 to 6.”
“Evening appointment?”
“That too. We’re signing this color off—apparently the bull-hunt hit a wildcard.”
''You have scope for a DiM at the Social?” asks Doyle a little shyly.
“I think we do, minus the M, eh?” replies Veteran.
“I’ll be there then—three? Where?”
“Main hall.”
Shortly after 09:15 hrs
Office of Public Relations Officer
Heart of Big Office
His secretary, Amanda Simpson, spots Doyle clearing his office desk devotedly. Amused, she confronts him. She has just been transferred to this office because of a little reshuffling and though she’s been in the firm for a while, she hasn’t seen the likes of Doyle before.
“New appointment are we?” she asks sweetly.
“Yes, how do you know?” he says, politely and moderately flirtatious.
“Into office ethics, eh?”
The word “office ethics” seems to bring him back to reality. As though he’s repairing an act of great unethicality, he blurts out:
“Amanda, will you please marry me?”
Amanda is reassured: He is into office ethics.
A little while, 11:45 hrs
Big Boss’s Office
Big Office
José Veteran corners Suj.
“Morning, ma’am,” he greets with a toothy smile from end to end.
“Morning José,” she says, with just as much interest as her husband would have in her telling him that he doesn’t keep his things tidy enough (judge it by it’s frequency—four times a day).
“You look nice today, ma’am,” he butters on.
“I see, you notice,” she says, skillfully hiding the yawn.
“Nobody sees the goodness in their bosses any longer! Everyone regards “boss” as synonymous with “exploitative and rude”… I beg to differ, I think that most bosses are…”
“I’ve got an assignment for you José,” she says, apparently humored.
“Pleasure, my pleasure!”
“I want you to clean some grease.”
He’s nonplussed.
“Go to the men’s room—there are mirrors there to help you.”
Meanwhile 11:40 hrs
Customer Relations Office
Big Office
As Suj was strolling down another corridor, she heard a conversation a little beyond.
“Charlotte?” It’s Desmond Doyle. “You heard about the social?”
Charlotte, a pretty and shockingly fair girl with ample everything’s looks up from behind a pile of folders.
“Yes, I did. You mean, French?”
“Yes. I’m on as DiM.”
“Minus M,” she says, blushing profusely.
“Right,” winks Doyle.
“You updated the last Glossary?”
“Technical terms? Down the fourth alley?”
“Aisle. Yes.”
“Yes, fourth aisle. I updated it, yeah… Fun eh?”
Discreetly, Suj alerts one of her assistants to go down to Fourth Aisle and search the Glossary for “DiM”. Meanwhile, she’s planning to barge into this “social”—French.
Later 13:40 hrs
Big Boss Office
Over a phone
“DiM found,” declares assistant.
“And it stands for?” asks Suj impatiently.
“Dog in the Manger.”
Suj is more confused by this than by most February budget sessions.
Later that evening 22:20 hrs
José Veteran Residence
Forgotten Street, LostsVille.
“How was your day?” purrs Mrs. Veteran as the front door closes behind her and Mr. Veteran, pulling him into her arms, tenderly, planting an unnecessarily sugarcoated kiss just below his lip on the left side.
“Oh so busy,” purrs Mr. Veteran back.
“Tell me about it,” she says, fiddling with his suit collar.
“Oh dear,” he says, slowly, tightening his arms around her, “we had this big tête-à-tête with this honcho—colored, see? He got a wildcard, apparently, on a bull-hunt and it was all too gaudy for us to clear so it took time. And then we had this long-ish interdepartmental social,” he says, making a look as though he’s been asked to lick a loo.
Mrs. Veteran seems to, firstly, understand everything he said and to be listening with deepest attention. Onlookers (none other than me of course, no Suj around, Jesus!) would be surprised to see why she’s listening so carefully.
“Then,” continues José, “we get a huge outlandish giggle-goose, trying to loosen up a few blue-heads, but little worked. So we tried tying up three’s at one time, and we got through the HK to the FF. I think the LA should pass on—deal on my hands, eh?”
Unbelievably, she’s listening with rapturous attention. And the reason is ununderstandable if you only consider his words…
The real reason could, of course, be below their waists…
Long Before, 16:43 hrs
Main Hall, The Social—French
Big Office
Suj barges into the Hall, expecting a party of sorts. Instead, it’s pitch dark. She instructs one of her accompanying assistants to turn the light on. Oh, lord, she’s embarrassed. But she’s very tactful, taciturn, and of course, cooperative.
“Charlotte,” she says kindly, “you can continue. I’m not looking. Can we meet later then?” and she escapes as fast as she can.
Shockingly, back at the Big Hall, the empty Pepsi bottle is rotating on the floor again. Everyone’s sitting in a circle.
The DiM (minus M) got a BiM of course. Decipher “B”. For help, refer the Glossary.
The author later learnt from Suj’s hubby that it took him several hours to console her. She was in a state of extreme shock and depression.
Who’s having the hectic time?
Several days later, 00:06 hrs
Suj’s home, study table
Suj is reading the Glossary after having found the best way to handle her hectic job (refer 1st comment) as a boss.
Honcho: Barman with interesting recipes.
Tête-à-tête: Barman’s birthday party.
Social: Round table kissing conference.
French: Round table French-kissing conference.
HK, FF, LA: Dummy variables.
Bull-Hunt: Search for replacement if barman retires.
Giggle-goose: Charlotte on a Social—French.
Color, Wildcard, Blue-Heads: No comments.
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