In The Office

I had to go into the office, yesterday, Boris told me last week, as the IT department wanted to uninstall something from my laptop and I had to front up in person so they could do it.

So I headed into the office. Boris wasn't in, as it turned out, but the big boss was pleased to see me, but he's always pleased. He has that unwavering enthusiasm, but then, so might I if I got 500K a year.

So, Muscles, the IT guy, comes around mid-morning to say he had to do the uninstall and it would take about 10 minutes. I dither with my response and instead of saying, okay, yes, do it now, here's my computer, Muscles says he'd come back at lunch time, what time did I go?

He'd no sooner walked away when I told myself I was an idiot and that I should have got him to do it there and then, which he would have, as that was the only thing keeping me in the office, today, with Boris not in.

So, stupid me, I told myself.

Then I was scheming after that to get the job done sooner than later.

Anyway, as I'd got in early, I could realistically go to lunch early, and I was planning to go at 10.30am, which of course was too early in anyone's language. 

I had all my work done, so I had very little to, actually, keep me occupied. At least at home, I could do my own writing. Oh, I'd find something, don't worry about that.

It seemed like hours passing progressing from 10.30am. At 10.55am, I couldn't wait any longer and I headed around to Muscles office to tell him I'd started early, which isn't a stretch as when I start early, Muscles is usually the next one in after me, so he knows I start early, not that I had to prove anything to him, of course, but it is true none the less.

He looks really busy when I see him with a laptop under each arm and his phone in his hand.

"I'm going to lunch, as I started early," I say.

Even with everything in his hands, he still managed to flip his wrist around and look at his watch. "Okay, then. You go for an hour?"

"Yes," I say. Again, I chastise myself, why didn't I say half an hour.

I go get lunch. I sit in the lunch room, instead of at my desk like I usually do, giving Muscles full rein of my computer.

I finish my lunch in 20 minutes reading the hardcopy newspapers in the kitchen. I walk back to my office 25 minutes later. I see Muscles walking away from my computer.

"You done?" I say.

"Yes." He comes back to my office and gets me to sign in and he checks a couple of things.

"All done," he says.

Free, I think.

I go wash my coffee cup. 

On my way back, I see the Grand Poobah in conference with The Midget in his office, and I figured they wouldn't notice me any time soon. So I shut down and pack up and get out the door in record time, like a bandit, still when it is morning, only just, but still morning.

I was hoping The Big Poo and The Midget were in conference for the longest time, you know, quarterly figures, some shit. Also hoped they wouldn't need anything from me, unlikely, but so what, what if they did, I thought, as I motored up Collins Street and away. They won't. Too late, anyway.