RECEPTION

Sitting in a corporate HQ’s reception area whilst tapping away at a PC is a bit like wearing an invisibility cloak. Everyone thinks your doing some last minute prep for a meeting before someone comes to collect you whereas, in fact, you are drafting an entry from your blog and watching the world go by. You should try it.

Right now it’s 1.50 pm, so there’s a general drift of people returning to work after a stroll round the city. However, there’s still a steady stream of folk heading out into the sunshine. Where are they going at this time of day?

I think the lady next to me on the leather couch is here for an interview as she’s poring over a CV, which I’m guessing is her own. She looks smart in an ordinary way. However, her shoes are semi-porn star, patent leather slingbacks in a deep cherry with high soles and heels. I’m wondering how this will affect her chances. Depends on the interviewer I suppose.

I spot a couple of my own colleagues waggling their passes through the electronic turnstiles. They fail to see me and I don’t make myself known, other then by sending a text to one of them saying that she looks good in green.

There’s a shelving unit with a load of corporate magazines on it directly behind my seat. One of the receptionists has just taken it upon herself to restock it and it’s making me feel uncomfortable and paranoid. I always prefer to have my back to the wall, as does Mrs Backroads. However, I always concede this position to her whenever we visit a restaurant. This means that there’s often a niggling feeling of discomfort in the back of my mind when I am out for dinner with my lovely wife, but I do this because I love her and because she’d get a monk on if I didn’t.

Somebody’s PA came and collected interview-girl. I’m guessing, therefore, that she’s being interviewed by someone execcy. This raises the chances of it being a man in this organisation but certainly doesn’t rule out a woman sizing her up. I wonder if she’ll get the job?