Snow business
The recent extreme weather event that swept Britain (snow in winter) provoked a curious reaction from the workforce. The majority of office drones took one look at a white landscape and decided, as one, to take the day off. In some cases this was a good decision because the roads were full of people who had decided to ‘struggle in’. This sort of person thinks they are indispensable to the workings of whatever company they are part of, the sad truth is that, unless they are responsible for opening up the office first thing, or are a council gritter, one day off will not make that much difference. What they did do was made the roads; already ‘treacherous’ thanks to snow, ice and the bloke who has the key to the grit depot not being at work yet, perilous.
Certainly those who did struggle to get to work have an exaggerated sense of their own importance or, you know, a job that actually matters, as opposed to being in sales, marketing or one thousand and one other occupations that take longer than ten seconds to describe.
At least those that got in were kept warm by their own smugness. During the cold snap it was discovered that our office, which is mainly window, was cold. Cold to the extent that colleagues were actually wearing scarves and, believe me when I say this, not for fashion related motives. Rather, they looked like modern Bob Cratchett’s (although I think he had a ‘comforter’ which, until I learned that this was a Victorian word for scarf, thought was a mid-morning shot of gin).
Because we are supposed to care about polar bears, we’re not allowed portable heaters because that would upset the air con and hence bugger the environmentally friendly nature of the building. Sod being environmentally friendly, all the planet has ever tried to do is kill me in a variety of increasingly inventive ways. Nature can be vindictive and has many weapons in its arsenal, gravity being chief among them. Alcohol being another.
What you are allowed at your desk is a thermometer. Not so you can go home when the temperature plunges like a starlets neck line, but so I can play my favourite game: ‘it’s now the same temperature as it is in…’
(fires up internet) ‘Wesconsin!’
‘Is that good?’
‘Can’t be!’.
It’s a plastic digital job and while I don’t doubt that it’s accurate I do doubt that it’s impressive enough to be taken seriously. That’s why I want three climate stations on my desk. The modern one would be stainless steel and feature flashing lights and one of those wind measuring things that look like a device for taking three scoops of ice-cream in one go.
The second one would be made mostly of brass and banned chemicals, feature dials and be housed in a glass-fronted mahogany case. As certain temperatures a buzzer would sound and it would dispense hot tea or cold Pimms.
Finally I want a rustic one. This is essentially a length of shed attached to which would be a length of seaweed, a pine cone and an old man with a gyppy knee. Also, possibly, an onion. Can you predict the weather using an onion? Given the trouble that the recent cold weather caused root vegetable farmers, I’m guessing not. But if you did come up with an onion based weather prediction system, I bet somebody would bring out the related iPhone app shortly after.
Certainly those who did struggle to get to work have an exaggerated sense of their own importance or, you know, a job that actually matters, as opposed to being in sales, marketing or one thousand and one other occupations that take longer than ten seconds to describe.
At least those that got in were kept warm by their own smugness. During the cold snap it was discovered that our office, which is mainly window, was cold. Cold to the extent that colleagues were actually wearing scarves and, believe me when I say this, not for fashion related motives. Rather, they looked like modern Bob Cratchett’s (although I think he had a ‘comforter’ which, until I learned that this was a Victorian word for scarf, thought was a mid-morning shot of gin).
Because we are supposed to care about polar bears, we’re not allowed portable heaters because that would upset the air con and hence bugger the environmentally friendly nature of the building. Sod being environmentally friendly, all the planet has ever tried to do is kill me in a variety of increasingly inventive ways. Nature can be vindictive and has many weapons in its arsenal, gravity being chief among them. Alcohol being another.
What you are allowed at your desk is a thermometer. Not so you can go home when the temperature plunges like a starlets neck line, but so I can play my favourite game: ‘it’s now the same temperature as it is in…’
(fires up internet) ‘Wesconsin!’
‘Is that good?’
‘Can’t be!’.
It’s a plastic digital job and while I don’t doubt that it’s accurate I do doubt that it’s impressive enough to be taken seriously. That’s why I want three climate stations on my desk. The modern one would be stainless steel and feature flashing lights and one of those wind measuring things that look like a device for taking three scoops of ice-cream in one go.
The second one would be made mostly of brass and banned chemicals, feature dials and be housed in a glass-fronted mahogany case. As certain temperatures a buzzer would sound and it would dispense hot tea or cold Pimms.
Finally I want a rustic one. This is essentially a length of shed attached to which would be a length of seaweed, a pine cone and an old man with a gyppy knee. Also, possibly, an onion. Can you predict the weather using an onion? Given the trouble that the recent cold weather caused root vegetable farmers, I’m guessing not. But if you did come up with an onion based weather prediction system, I bet somebody would bring out the related iPhone app shortly after.
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