At
work
My
parents suspected that I might get hungry during working hours, so
they gave me a 100-kg-piece of pork. They said I could now fill my
stomach whenever I liked.
The meat was cut in a big rectangular shape of, should I say, mattress.
At least it had the same proportions with the thickness of ten centimetres,
width of more than half a metre and length of almost two metres.
The roast was pre-marinated but uncooked. It was too big to fit in
the fridge, so I placed it on a chair next to my desk. Half of it
was hanging outside the seat but, for hygienic reasons, I had been
careful not to let the roast touch the floor or wall. I was a little
concerned about the possible stains in my office chair, however, but
I didn't worry this too much as I cut thick, juicy slices, for the
frying pan.
Having already cut at least two kilos, I wondered how long the meat
would last. Two kilos was only a tiny portion of the entire roast.
At this rate there would be plenty of meat left for the next week.
In a warm office environment, food products would hardly stay fresh
for long. Even now I could smell unpleasant odour.
Without much hesitation I took the whole roast on my shoulders and
dragged it to the coffee room, where I disposed the meat in the bin.
There was no room for any other debris, but this was the only the
place I could find.
The sun was shining through the glass walls as I walked along the
corridor. Some of the workstations were interspersed with green plants,
but most of the tables were empty. I wondered why almost no one sat
on this side of the office. The space was comfortable and pleasant.
One of my co-workers was still located here a few days ago, but I
could no longer see him.
I stepped into the lift and descended one floor lower. The hallway
was full of desktops occupied by dozens of office workers. Cramped
in a narrow space, they sat side by side, working in a noisy environment
in the light of fluorescent lamps. The windows were blocked so that
natural light could not reach inside. The place was dark and damp.
I found my colleague sitting next to his workstation.
'Why are you here, cramped into a corner, even if there's plenty of
room upstairs?' I asked.
'I didn't like it there,' he said. 'It was too lonely.'
I
wondered what made people choose the narrow and dark environment.
But I didn't have time to become too puzzled, as I was in a hurry
to attend a meeting.
In
the meeting room I met my boss and team members. Among the colleagues
I found a former Finnish Idol star and pop singer A. Tuisku.
The agenda consisted of a presentation by Tuisku called 'Adaptation
of Celebrities to Office Work'. This was a PowerPoint slide show projected
on the white wall.
We listened to what Tuisku had to say. He began with a report on how
he, as a pop singer, had chosen to work in the office. The initial
steps were covered slide by slide. The successes were highlighted,
not forgetting the difficulties either. The text and pictures complemented
each other, as Tuisku spoke freely but objectively. Plenty of time
was given to personal reminiscences.
At some point the subject matter began to meander so that Tuisku could
accommodate stories of his youth and even trips to Greece. Increasingly
speech was synchronized to the flickering images. Pauses and intonation
were used for extra effect. Slowly I could detect background music
too. The melody was barely noticeable at first, but it picked up strength
as the presentation progressed.
All
this was very good, I though, but please, do not start to sing - not
here.
The
imagery gradually changed from concrete to abstract. Music and pictures
blended together, while Tuisku's rhythm of presentation was even more
pronounced. The use of sound varied and soon we also heard notes.
Before we knew it, the music took over. The end result was almost
an entire concert.
No
doubt a lot of time had been used in the preparation. With only a
few colleagues to attend the show, was this all worth the effort?
On the other hand, what could the performer do for his character.
