Today marks an auspicious occasion. It is my triumphant return to regular employment. I celebrated long and hard this morning on the express bus into the city. An incredible journey marked by a wet and windswept horizon and punctuated by the shrill dinging of bells and transferal of passengers.
I have not worked in the central city of Auckland before. I hope there will be plenty to write about. At first glance it appears people commuting are not a very talkative bunch. They are not a particularly expressive lot either. I did get a half strained grimace infused with the beginnings of a smile from one lady passenger after I helpfully indicated there were seats free up the back where the cool people sit.
I am working in an interesting building. It has a lounge area downstairs with a few chocolate brown leather lounge suites. It is here that I will do my morning writing. The security man seems to be a writer as well. I can only see the beginnings of a head behind his desk and he only gives the slightest of nods to suggest he has preformed a biochemical and metal scans with his eyes. His head being tilted down shows he is clearly writing furiously. Actually I have seen his face now, he is hiding a horrendous beard. He has got carried away with movember and is clearly embarrassed by it.
A cleaner is vacuuming the tiled floor. He is a large man and would make a better security man than the bearded fellow. His vacuum cleaner is impressive and it is not hard to imagine it making an efficient tool to repel bun runners, hawkers and lounging loiterers like myself. I have made contact with the cleaner. Like all good boys I helpfully lifted my bags and feet so he could work his magic.
Up the elevator I am humbled by the nice little things my new work does. We have free fruit to eat every day. My team plays morning word games on a white board. We also have our starsigns read out to us by a nominated member. These may seem a trifle superfluous but they are things I respect. It does not take much to make places of work a lot better.
Would you beleive one of my first tasks was to call the concierge downstairs? Be careful of who you write about. You might have to talk to them. Which reminds me I must write something about Beyoncé.