My boss, who has a worrying addiction to dating websites, has been in an almighty strop recently, pacing the floor and hissing at anybody bold enough to venture near the perimeter of her personal space zone.
The reason for her exceptionally snarling state is that the IT director has finally pulled the plug on desktop surfing. So while my boss comes to terms with the fact that she’ll have to do some real work, having enjoyed the “perception is nine-tenths of the game” bluff for years, the reception area has been transformed into a cheap-looking internet cafe.
Generously decked out for leisure-surfing purposes with a couple of old PCs and ramshackle desks and swivel chairs, the IT director commented in his email brief that it’s all the rage, and we can now surf the web at our leisure, during the coffee and lunch breaks we never manage to take. Sadly, food and drinks are banned from the actual PC desks though. There was, however, also a footnote revealing exciting news of a coffee-lounge style sofa which will be arriving in three months, after the ever-frugal office manager shunned the usual suppliers for DFS.
This progressive leap forward brings a whole new set of challenges, as I’ve been inundated with complaints about queue time to access the PCs. So we are now the proud owners of a colour coordinated rota which hangs smugly on the wall.
However, the cafe’s original popularity has waned in favour of handhelds. At least when Facebook was readily available on everyone’s PC, my team gave an appearance of being busy. Now they all look as though they’ve contracted some strange spinal disorder as they try to glance surreptitiously at their website of choice on the handheld they have nestled in their desk drawer.
My boss arrived this morning with a mini laptop which she has hidden behind her PC. Unbeknown to her, a cheeky boy from the performance team checked her search history. Seems she has a performance of her own planned this weekend, if the male escort site she’d been surfing is anything to go by.