Pretty Colours

It was lunchtime and I was trapped in a grimy, windowless room for an urgent meeting. The urgency was over the creation of a report and how it should be distributed.

I could have wept at the futility of it all.

Even worse, it was sunny outside.

A sense of desperation to get out there and enjoy the first proper warm day of the year radiated from me and the fellow attendees.

Well, almost all of the attendees.

I mean, shouldn't we be attempting to be a paperless office?

Squawked Pero-Pero, indignantly in a bid to appear important.

Despite my best efforts I groaned out loud. Oh yes Pero-Pero because someone has to mention paperless office at every meeting since the eighties.

Pero-Pero glared at me as if instead of sighing, I had chewed his cornflakes with my buttocks.

All our stuff is, it's you lot, the Design Team that insists on printing everything out.

I smiled smugly as if indeed I had buttocked his cornflakes and was now spooning them into his mouth.

I had been trapped in meetings all day and was rapidly losing patience at the amount of guff twaddle that was spouted.

It seemed that instead of actually trying to achieve things that many people made a career out of going to meetings and just talking out and out tosh. Pero-Pero being a fine example. He had already extended this meeting twenty minutes beyond the expected hour and showed no sign of running out of steam.

I think it's something that we all, as a project. Nay, a company have to consider.

Pero-Pero stated this last with the pomposity of a wine waiter in a posh restaurant.

Pffffhh.

I responded, vibrating my lips labially as I stroked the big printout in front of me as if it was a fluffy white cat.

El Jefe raised a magisterial hand.

Guys, guys. Maybe we should take the paperless thing offline?

Happy to.

I said, knowing full well that saying such a thing actually means let's move on and not bother our arse with that.

Pero-Pero shot me a glance that would have killed a daffodil or at least made it feel slightly ill.

I looked pleadingly at El Jefe. Come on... It's sunny outside, let's end this charade and let us go? I mentally projected at him.

El Jefe raised a forefinger to his chin and made his patented thinking face. We had all seen it before so no-one panicked that he had had a stroke. The seconds stretched out. I could tell that he wasn't thinking at all because there were no ominous creaking noises.

Eventually he sighed and spoke.

Hmmm. If we don't want to go down the paper route perhaps we could make some kind of digital dashboard?

He stroked his chin.

Yes. That's it. Perhaps we should kick a few ideas around about the format? Anyone?

Pero-Pero opened his mouth excitedly, like a hamster with a new stone.

I stood.

Right. I will do it. I will send you a draft this afternoon. I shall put lots of graphs with pretty colours on it. Now I am going to have my lunch, in the sun.

El Jefe smirked and nodded. Pero-Pero mumbled something that sounded like no need to be precious.

I leered at him as if it was our wedding night.

And I will print it out as well to send via the internal mail for everyone to approve.

I stomped off to enjoy my lunch in the sun.