Rage of the robotoids
Jun. 19th, 2011 04:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
todayiamadaisyLook, a unicycle!
(Originally from geekologie.)
My oven is fixed. Finally! After one day short of four weeks. Now it's back, I can't think of anything I want to do with it.
When I was nearly finished work for the week, I realised that there was a conversation going on at the reception desk that... wasn't quite right. I can only see the desk peripherally and I'm not close enough to hear clearly, but it didn't seem to be the usual sort of interaction. People who come into our office tend to be couriers, doctors in our training program or our landlord giving his guide dog puppy some stair-climbing practice. This man wasn't any of them.
I concentrated and heard him say, 'And how would I become a doctor? I'd really like to do that,' which was unexpected, because we work with experienced doctors, not potential ones. I considered all the possibilities: he's leaving a message for someone and he's making chit-chat while he writes; he's one of the admin assistant's friends, come to visit and annoy her; he's a salesman and she doesn't know how to get rid of him; he's a random weirdo. It would have been so much easier if he'd been obviously creepy or threatening or scary, but he was pleasant and polite.
Eventually I decided to go and pretend to photocopy something, because I'd have to go past the reception desk to get there, reminding both the admin assistant and the mystery man that she wasn't alone. That was the right thing to do, it turns out, because no sooner had I turned the photocopier on when the admin assistant came in, asking what to do. 'He said he's going to look around and he's gone up to the kitchen,' she added.
So I stood at the end of the corridor, leaving the staircase as the only place for him to go, and asked him if I could help. That got rid of him, but first he took a brochure for one of Angela's workshops for overseas trained doctors, before he backed down the stairs, asking me questions all the way down to the landing. Where could he study medicine? What score would he need to get in? Then he finally went downstairs and into the solicitors, either to bother them or perhaps he was a client of theirs.
And that was that. It was nothing, really, but I sent an email to our boss just so he'd know it happened. It won't hurt to have a conversation about what to do if that happens while the admin assistant is there alone.
This week's photos have a bit of a theme: dullness. No, things about town. Plus two extras to make up the numbers in the grid.
Day 163. Supermarket, Day 164. Fire escape, Day 165. Letter boxes, Day 166. Police car (taken through car window), Day 167. Chook, Day 168. What's this?, Day 169. Large bowls, Day 166a. Roasting pepitas, Day 169a. One missing
(Originally from geekologie.)
My oven is fixed. Finally! After one day short of four weeks. Now it's back, I can't think of anything I want to do with it.
When I was nearly finished work for the week, I realised that there was a conversation going on at the reception desk that... wasn't quite right. I can only see the desk peripherally and I'm not close enough to hear clearly, but it didn't seem to be the usual sort of interaction. People who come into our office tend to be couriers, doctors in our training program or our landlord giving his guide dog puppy some stair-climbing practice. This man wasn't any of them.
I concentrated and heard him say, 'And how would I become a doctor? I'd really like to do that,' which was unexpected, because we work with experienced doctors, not potential ones. I considered all the possibilities: he's leaving a message for someone and he's making chit-chat while he writes; he's one of the admin assistant's friends, come to visit and annoy her; he's a salesman and she doesn't know how to get rid of him; he's a random weirdo. It would have been so much easier if he'd been obviously creepy or threatening or scary, but he was pleasant and polite.
Eventually I decided to go and pretend to photocopy something, because I'd have to go past the reception desk to get there, reminding both the admin assistant and the mystery man that she wasn't alone. That was the right thing to do, it turns out, because no sooner had I turned the photocopier on when the admin assistant came in, asking what to do. 'He said he's going to look around and he's gone up to the kitchen,' she added.
So I stood at the end of the corridor, leaving the staircase as the only place for him to go, and asked him if I could help. That got rid of him, but first he took a brochure for one of Angela's workshops for overseas trained doctors, before he backed down the stairs, asking me questions all the way down to the landing. Where could he study medicine? What score would he need to get in? Then he finally went downstairs and into the solicitors, either to bother them or perhaps he was a client of theirs.
And that was that. It was nothing, really, but I sent an email to our boss just so he'd know it happened. It won't hurt to have a conversation about what to do if that happens while the admin assistant is there alone.
This week's photos have a bit of a theme: dullness. No, things about town. Plus two extras to make up the numbers in the grid.
Day 163. Supermarket, Day 164. Fire escape, Day 165. Letter boxes, Day 166. Police car (taken through car window), Day 167. Chook, Day 168. What's this?, Day 169. Large bowls, Day 166a. Roasting pepitas, Day 169a. One missing