Tuesday, December 16, 2008

I'm not being pass-remarkable but...

I've not spent much time in offices prior to this last few weeks. It's a fascinating and rather irritating exercise in people-watching.

Today I was nearly seasick from the constant motion of the flirting girl & boy in residence. Well, rather the girl, she was continually rocking in her seat, rotating slightly from side to side, to keep the attention presumably, to hypnotise and thereby subdue her prey. Or perhaps she was desperate for the loo. I was tempted to ask, if I hadn't a. had more sense and b. been feeling slightly peaky from the constant movement in my periphery. It was rock, rock, swing, swing, touch hair, brush clothes, touch face, rock, rock, swing, swing, touch hair: all with an endless stream of banter to which the boy target occasionally responded. He really didn't have to do much, a neanderthal grunt once in a while would have sufficed. As it was, it pretty much did: he was scarcely the fount of all knowledge or a sparkling wit.

Now I wonder, is this the same girl who amused me greatly by her remarks the other day? These being, to a young fellow across from her "I don't mean this nastily, but do you ever shut the bleep* up?", followed up smartly with "I'm not being nasty but your voice goes right through me." It might not have been her, but I've a feeling it was.

Perhaps that day the view of the desired one was blocked in some way by this-other-fellow.

This-other-fellow did fall rather silent for quite some while after this not-nastiness. I can't think why.

You always know that a sentence begun with a clause(?) such as "I'm not being insulting, but" inevitably leads to it being very insulting indeed. Although people have enough awareness not to actually use the word insulting.

* She didn't actually bleep, nor use the expletive, but sort of self-censored with a pause that I felt was impossible to convey in written form.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Working in an office is excellent fodder for writing if ever you take to writing a novel. I enjoy listening to school gate Dad Peter's anecdotes about his work colleagues. They are humorous tinged with the quiet desperation and frustration about having to share space 40 hours a week with some very trying individuals! Abster x