Tuesday 22 December 2009

That last working day

I was already demob happy in the morning, minimal packing with an overnight bag instead of a suitcase, and in good time for breakfast and work. How was I to know?

Arriving at the new desk in the penthouse garret, I fetched out and plugged in snoopy 2 and fired it up to start work. Unconsciously touching my ear, I discovered I'd lost one of my earrings. Yes, one of those earrings. I was and am quite surprised at how upset I was, and am about that. I called the hotel to tell them I'd lost it, but they didn't call back and I guess some chambermaid or laundryperson has slung the single sparkly thing away, which they wouldn't have done if it had had a price tag on it. Not convinced I'd have got it back even so. Has anyone, EVER got anything back from an hotel when they've left something in the room? To date, I've had denials on a Jabra headset, cheap calendar and cheapish but irreplaceable print I still regret, a zippo that meant a great deal to me, and now the earring. *sigh*

The day recovered quite well when I met Jane C for a drink after work, she has some mad idea that my supporting her promotion nomination did the trick, and lavished compliments on me about how much she learned from me when she was in my team last year. All embarrassingly flattering. More than that, she had a lovely Christmas card for me and mine, and a rather nice bottle of rouge which she sternly informed me I had to enjoy properly in good company. She's back working in Brum after Christmas so she & Ray are unlikely to make the Rammy but there is always hope.

Lots of amusement that evening. We chose not to stand in the space by the open door leading to the toilets, finding it infested with appalling stench. Instead we infiltrated the empty tables and chairs clearly reserved for diners and were able to sit in comfort and didn't even have to use Plan B (order a bowl of chips)to assert our rights as ladies of a certain air.

Eventually, we had to take it in turns to descend into the bog of stench (I'm sure there's a labyrinth reference in there but can't quite remember it). On my way down the stairs, I passed a young man who wished me Merry Christmas, so I returned the salutation and went about my business. The smell was actually less bad in the loo than at the top of the stairs.

When I came out and started back up the stairs, he was still there, and called to me as I got half-way up the first flight of steps

Him: Can I ask you a question
Me: Go on then, ask.
Him: would you give me a Christmas kiss under the mistletoe?
Me: there isn't any mistletoe
Him: it's imaginary
Me: OK, you can have an imaginary kiss

Still, terribly flattering, especially since I discovered he wasn't lurking down there asking every woman who passed; he hadn't asked Jane at any rate.

The second drink meant that I didn't get back into the building till about 7.30; cheerfully checking with the security guys that they hadn't locked the garret, I discovered they had. Leaving my laptop open on the desk surrounded by paper and my overnight bag under the coat stand obviously wasn't enough of a signal. They couldn't find the key for almost an hour "because the lock had recently been replaced". I blame the second drink for my being able to remain in good temper.

Having failed dismally to finish the stuff I had planned to polish off before the hols, mostly due to people sending review comments a week late; I got a late-working payoff when I received and forwarded an last gasp email from Mrs Business signing off the test approach I'd been selling her for the last two weeks. RESULT! Conscience immediately cleared, I eviscerated snoopy2 of the battery and DVD drive to save weight and left the building like a kid from the last day of school ~ and took a horribly expensive taxi to Marylebone on the basis I deserved it only to find I'd just missed a train and had to hang around for another half hour.

Giving a couple of quid to a mad old lady who hangs around there sometimes, it was interesting to notice that two other people suddenly started digging in pockets and bags to give her something. Why did they need an example? It meant the time passed quite quickly with a deep conversation between strangers about how the homeless cope, and how easy it is to fall between the cracks in society and end up on the street.

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