The office

I've been wanting to write about the office for a while. Offices are always full of peculiar characters, and this one is no exception! When I arrived in Australia, the only person in this continent I knew was my own bloody boss! Phil is the most relaxed boss ever. I mean, he makes Melvin from London look slightly edgy! For those not familiar with this example, Phil makes Jesus Christ himself look like Woody Allen! The turn off is his addiction to 80's pop. Any self respecting 70's rock and 90's tri-pop lover such as myself finds that extremely annoying! But he's THE dude!

The office itself is very well located, central and a short 12 minutes walk from my house, which limits the damage of my daily oversleep. People make the funniest faces when I say I leave in the neighbourhood. Yesterday I came in 25 minutes late, looking like a zombie straight out of Michael Jackson's Thriller. That's when you wish your boss is away. Of course, we was by the printer next to my desk, shaking his head in disbelief. Some days at 9am I'm still getting out of bed. I wonder what would happen if I lived inside the office. I'd still be late, I'm sure, question is how late?

Though well located, this office lacks the most basic element. A decent toilet, clean and big enough for me to go and have a nap now and then. In London we had amazing self contained toilet pods, big enough for a small rave party. I had countless 15 minutes snoozes there. Here, there's one cubicle, and any new Zealand rugby aficionado won't be able to fit through the door. The only thing that small in the whole facilities is the sense of privacy you get. That and the sink, which makes a plane toilet look like a Cuban girl's ass. Spacious.... But the highlight is the urinal. A model from the late 1300, its set next to the window... a low window. As if that wasn't bad enough, there's a public stairs right outside. Its as hilarious as it is embarrassing! The combined toilet areas are still smaller than my apartment's storage closet. Mind there are approximately 30 males working here! There are maybe 15 women, and legend has it that they even have a shower... Food for imagination. True.

Every Friday afternoon there are drinks, the occasional movie, but mostly, the trademark aussie "no worries" approach. One time I had to do this 3 day marathon design, to send that Friday afternoon. Main Man Phil had the email address I had to send the presentation to, but he wasn't in. However he did call saying it was an important client, blah blah. By 5pm I had it done, but no boss nor email address. The dude arrived like an our ago, straight to the meeting room, for chat, chips and booze! Phil!!!! What about that email?! What email..., oh yeah..... sorry.

If I have to select a character to describe, Orlando, the short fat and extremely cheesy gay interior designer, has to be the one! He's quite funny, but again, with the most retarded sense of humour since Tango & Cash. Orlando looks odd, acts odd, chooses the oddest colour and material combinations known to man with the possible exception of Vegas, and talks odd. He swallows half the words, which I can only guess is a natural tendency to swallow...
The best way to illustrate him, is to imagine a cute cartoon of a baby elephant, but still not quite as amusing as the original! Still, he's always in a good mood and I'm quite fond of his presence.
I believe this email would be utterly incomplete without a picture of both Orlando and the man's toilet.

In January we're moving to the new office. Apparently its bigger, brighter, has a snooker and ping pong table, a more generous toilet space, and a great city view. But for the love of God, it's a 20 minutes walk from my house!!! I fear the worse. Oh lord, why do you mock me???

I told you so!...