Legs aren't usually so difficult as to make you wait a day before they start complaining, so maybe the bike ride was less trouble for your legs than you think? In which case it's probably your lower back that's going to start complaining first :)
Rain The offices of Data Analytic Marketetic Normalisations were quiet: it was technically lunchtime but the interns weren't fed during daylight hours and the employees with ambitions worked furiously through lunch in order to try and get ahead of their colleagues. The employees without ambitions were collected by regular sweeps of the HR team, whose motto was Turning headcount into bodycount since 1999. An elevator pinged gently and a couple of seconds later a light lit up above the doors to indicate that it was arriving. The doors slid open noiselessly and a smartly dressed man carrying a pinstriped umbrella stepped out and looked around. The silence and the emptiness of the office didn't seem to bother him at all. He walked across the grey-carpetted floor, silently as the carpet was hotel-quality, and looked at the reception desk. The chair behind it was tucked neatly in and seemed to have never been moved. There was no sign of a bell to ring for attention, a book to sign in in, or even a box of badges to denote him as outsider and not one of us. He hesitated, clearly wondering what to do next.
"You can come this way." Margoyle had somehow walked up behind him without him being aware and was now stood an arm's length away. Her voice was calm and controlled, almost automaton-like, but he was used to that with the DAMN employees. They were efficient, clear-of-thought, and exactly the people he needed at the moment, but sometimes they were just a little bit... offputting, he decided. "You are here to talk about...?" The question hung delicately on the air like a hummingbird pausing to choose between flowers. "Rain," he said, lifting the dry umbrella very slightly. "Ah yes," said Margoyle, and gestured that he should walk across reception to a glass door that opened as he approached. The institutionally beige corridor they walked down was dimly lit by soft yellow lights recessed in the ceiling and he noticed that he didn't seem to be casting any shadows. Then a tap on his elbow indicated he should stop and he waited while Margoyle was scanned by a red light and a door opened in the wall where he could have sworn there was no door. "Rain," said Margoyle as he sat himself down. "More, or less?" "Control of," he said. "The Sweden problem--" "Is being addressed." Margoyle cut him off with the smoothness of a politician. "Fine. Whatever the outcome, we want control of the rain in the midwest. You did some excellent work with ARG Healthcare a while back." "That wasn't me," said Margoyle. She had approved a lot of the idea of hijacking ambulances and taking their patients to alternative hospitals but DAMN was very particular about accreditation of effort and ideas. "But... rainfall over that area... how tightly do you need the boundaries defined?" "What?" The man shook his head. "Surely there are logistical problems, network issues, land purchases requirements. The boundaries need to be tightly defined first?" "Much of what you talk about is our bread and butter," said Margoyle. "If you wanted to redirect the Colorado river I'd really only need the details of where it should now run." The man nodded slowly. "Ah. Then perhaps I need to redefine my requirements. I have a map of where I don't want it to rain any more. Ever."
Greg - yeah that seems to be true. My legs have surprised me with their lack of complaints post bike rides.
Ah, it's been a damn while since we've visited these DAMN offices. This particular visitor seems to have found exactly the right place for his needs at least!
2 comments:
Legs aren't usually so difficult as to make you wait a day before they start complaining, so maybe the bike ride was less trouble for your legs than you think? In which case it's probably your lower back that's going to start complaining first :)
Rain
The offices of Data Analytic Marketetic Normalisations were quiet: it was technically lunchtime but the interns weren't fed during daylight hours and the employees with ambitions worked furiously through lunch in order to try and get ahead of their colleagues. The employees without ambitions were collected by regular sweeps of the HR team, whose motto was Turning headcount into bodycount since 1999.
An elevator pinged gently and a couple of seconds later a light lit up above the doors to indicate that it was arriving. The doors slid open noiselessly and a smartly dressed man carrying a pinstriped umbrella stepped out and looked around. The silence and the emptiness of the office didn't seem to bother him at all. He walked across the grey-carpetted floor, silently as the carpet was hotel-quality, and looked at the reception desk. The chair behind it was tucked neatly in and seemed to have never been moved. There was no sign of a bell to ring for attention, a book to sign in in, or even a box of badges to denote him as outsider and not one of us. He hesitated, clearly wondering what to do next.
"You can come this way." Margoyle had somehow walked up behind him without him being aware and was now stood an arm's length away. Her voice was calm and controlled, almost automaton-like, but he was used to that with the DAMN employees. They were efficient, clear-of-thought, and exactly the people he needed at the moment, but sometimes they were just a little bit... offputting, he decided. "You are here to talk about...?" The question hung delicately on the air like a hummingbird pausing to choose between flowers.
"Rain," he said, lifting the dry umbrella very slightly.
"Ah yes," said Margoyle, and gestured that he should walk across reception to a glass door that opened as he approached. The institutionally beige corridor they walked down was dimly lit by soft yellow lights recessed in the ceiling and he noticed that he didn't seem to be casting any shadows. Then a tap on his elbow indicated he should stop and he waited while Margoyle was scanned by a red light and a door opened in the wall where he could have sworn there was no door.
"Rain," said Margoyle as he sat himself down. "More, or less?"
"Control of," he said. "The Sweden problem--"
"Is being addressed." Margoyle cut him off with the smoothness of a politician.
"Fine. Whatever the outcome, we want control of the rain in the midwest. You did some excellent work with ARG Healthcare a while back."
"That wasn't me," said Margoyle. She had approved a lot of the idea of hijacking ambulances and taking their patients to alternative hospitals but DAMN was very particular about accreditation of effort and ideas. "But... rainfall over that area... how tightly do you need the boundaries defined?"
"What?" The man shook his head. "Surely there are logistical problems, network issues, land purchases requirements. The boundaries need to be tightly defined first?"
"Much of what you talk about is our bread and butter," said Margoyle. "If you wanted to redirect the Colorado river I'd really only need the details of where it should now run."
The man nodded slowly. "Ah. Then perhaps I need to redefine my requirements. I have a map of where I don't want it to rain any more. Ever."
Greg - yeah that seems to be true. My legs have surprised me with their lack of complaints post bike rides.
Ah, it's been a damn while since we've visited these DAMN offices. This particular visitor seems to have found exactly the right place for his needs at least!
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