Senseless in Seattle
I am in Seattle and have just had a revelation; Stephan Pastis is right. Forty-eight hours ago, I was on a tram stop in Brussels wondering if the drunk, unwashed man standing next to me was going to walk into traffic or just stay where he was when the boss called me. And now I’m here.
I am on the Pacific coast as we have a client here who wishes to bend my ear about a number of technical issues and I am desperately trying to do my best. I have been instructed to work together with the lead project manager and one of the trainees in the company so as to achieve what is politely called “knowledge transfer”.
The project manager is a pleasant sort and we talked at length about the state of the industry and the project when I arrived. We even enjoyed a shared interest in travel and literature over our chicken teriyaki lunch. In the window-less meeting room, things change and, like Mr Hyde, my escort demonstrates odd behaviour. I notice this when I start demonstrating something technical on my laptop. Faced with a complete lack of flash, animated images, he starts banging on the table and screaming. Literally. Until I calm him down. This happens a few times, so I am getting used to it.
The trainee, meanwhile, acts as if this is completely normal behaviour for Western United States. He is particularly fascinated with my electrical convertor that allows me to use my 2-pin European plug with American sockets. He stares at it for hours and asks countless questions about it. Perhaps he doesn’t get out much.
He then spends the rest of the day pretending to pay attention to me while I pretend to transfer my knowledge.
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- Bare-faced Cheek
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