Cancer Awareness

There was a cancer awareness day on down in the canteen. There was one stand which was devoted to stopping smoking, but had no takers, I took a look and asked if I could have some stuff for Tom, the only guy on our section who smokes. I took him some literature, but also a mouse-mat and pen with “National No Smoking Day” on.
Then there was a stand for breast and testicular cancer awareness, which included a pair of breasts and a set of testicles, which were supposed to show what abnormalities you should look for. Clive was down there for some time so we were joking that they couldn’t get him away from the breasts.
Later on the women from the office went down and told us all about what they had got up to down there. They reckoned that one of the men doing one of the tests was nice looking and had lovely eyes. So when he got round to asking if any of them had got any questions Julie came out with “What are you doing tonight?”
She said he had nice eyes and a big red face.

Let there be light

Since the canteen has been refurbished they now have motion sensitive lights, so that if there is nobody in a section of the canteen the lights will turn themselves off. Unfortunately we use the canteen for meetings a lot of the time, before or after dinner hours, and the lights don’t seem to pick up any motion if you are sitting down. So fifteen minutes into our meeting the lights will go off and you have the choice of having the rest of the meeting dimly lit from the daylight, or sending someone to go and stand up and walk over to where we think the sensors are every ten minutes.

What? No bacon!

Yesterday we all had egg on toast or just toast because the canteen would not sell sausage or bacon following the Irish pork health-scare. we got sent this e-mail just before we were going down for breakfast. Today they had some bacon, but no sausage again:

MEAT RECALL
The Food Standards Authority of Ireland (FSAI) is requiring
the food industry to recall from the market all Irish pork and pork products
produced from pigs in Ireland.
This recall has been called following FSAI
test results indicating the presence of dioxins in animal feed and pork fat.
Dioxins are chemical contaminants and although there are natural sources of
dioxins, dioxins are usually formed as by-products of industrial combustion and
chemical process
The FSAI are currently investigating the extent of
contamination but have indicated that the risk to consumer health is "extremely
low". However, it is illegal for dioxins to be present in foodstuffs and
therefore the recall has been issued.
This means that there will be no bacon,
sausage, ham or pork based products being sold in the Restaurant until further
notice.

We apologise for any inconvenience this may cause

Dan's breakfast

While the canteen is being renovated for a few weeks we have a telephone ordering system in place, whereby one person phones in an order then goes and collects it from the back door of the canteen. So that nobody gets the wrong order they ask you to quote your telephone number when you order, then tell them your number when you go and collect it. For the past three weeks I’ve been doing this for anyone who has been in before 8.30. However Dan has been coming in later and having to fetch his own or get his order tagged onto someone else’s order.
Today he had to order his own and went down to collect it , some time after 9.30. A little later, while I was talking to Eric and one of the Steve’s over near Dan’s desk my mobile rang. I saw it was Dan ringing me:

Me: “Hello, what are you up to?”
Dan: “I’m downstairs. Can you do me a
favour?”
Me: “Yes…what do you want?”
Dan: “Can you go over to the phone on
my desk and tell me the last two digits of my phone number?”

I had trouble keeping a straight face. So fighting the need to burst out laughing I told him his phone number (overheard by Eric and Steve):

Steve: “He’s forgotten his own phone number?"
Me: “Yes…(almost crying with
laughter)…and he can’t get his sandwich without telling them what it
is.”
Eric: “Surely he could tell them what he wanted and they could figure
out which one is his?”
Me: “He’s probably not thought of that has he.”

It takes us all a while to stop laughing, then five minutes later Dan walks through the door with his breakfast and sets us off again.

American woman

I was reminded about this by having to rip the bottom layer of my sandwich apart at breakfast. There was a very sociable, and attractive, American girl in the queue for breakfast. Somehow she got involved in my conversation with Dan and I ended up talking to her more than Dan while I was waiting, but we ended up talking about nothing much. We mostly talked about how bad the canteen was, waiting time and food wise. I complained about the length of the queue and suggested they should adopt a McDonald’s style serving system, then she complained about the woman who was serving; how she never cuts all the way through the bread, so that you have to rip the bottom bit of bread or toast when you come to eat it. Unfortunately, for some reason, I deliberately avoided talking to her about obvious things like why she was working in a tin-pot town like this, how she came to work for us, which part of America she came from (assuming she wasn’t actually Canadian) and which department she worked in. I imagined everyone that talks to her asks where she’s from and how she came to be working over here.

Alan's Krispies

Alan has taken to bringing in his own Rice-Krispies, rather than having bacon or sausage sandwiches for breakfast. This morning Steve and me crept up behind him when we were preparing to go down to the canteen and told him “That’s not a man’s breakfast.” He had his mouth full, but gestured towards us with his hand.
Waiting by the lift door:
Steve: “Are Rice Krispies not a man’s breakfast?”
Me: “No. They are a …child’s breakfast. Only one step up from Coco Pops.”

Gloves on in the Canteen

We were at the front of the sandwich queue this morning at breakfast time when the girl that serves the sandwiches was brought to a halt. Her boss came along with a thick woven glove and told her to put it on. They apologised for the hold up and explained that some woman at a canteen up north keeps cutting herself, so everyone working with sharp knives in any of their canteens now has to wear one of these gloves. Steve explained that it was made of Kevlar. Her boss helped her on with the glove, then told her to put a latex glove over the top of that. It looked like it wouldn’t fit over the top, but together they managed it.
“Now bend over” she said across the counter to us, when they had got the latex glove on. We laughed. Her boss told her to try it and see how she got on with it. She struggled to cut the sausages for my sandwich, telling us:
“I’m careful, I never cut myself.”
Then once she’d got the sandwich together she tried to grab a paper bag off the top of the pile, to put my sandwich in. “I can’t open the paper bags to put the sandwiches in.”
Steve and me both grabbed at the bag to open it up for her. I don’t know how long she lasted with it. We’ll see if she’s still wearing it tomorrow.

Run down

As we are nearing the front of the queue Jason comes and joins the end of the queue:
Jason: “Have you heard the news about Andy?”
Me: “What news is this?”
Jason: “He’s been run over. On a zebra crossing. Sustained some head injuries apparently”
Me: “When was this?” (not sure if it was a joke yet)
Jason: “This morning, on his way to work I think.”
Me: “Where about was it?”
Jason: “I don’t know.”
Dan: “Was it in the car park?”
Eric: “Did someone speed up to get him?”
Me: “Oh maybe. There are still some people not happy about the Christmas party thing.”

As it turned out he was mostly just shaken –up and bruised.

Ashley Cole story

In the queue for breakfast this morning one of the Steves started on telling us about how penguins at the South Pole take it in turns to be in the middle of the huddle, so they take it in turns to keep warm. “That’s why they are always moving”, he tells us. So we start to look round for something more interesting to talk about and spot the newspaper headlines. “Ashley cheats”, about Ashley Cole cheating on his girlfriend. Eric suggests that we try and guess what he has cheated at, before we get round the queue to read more of the front page. After a few daft guesses Nige tells us the real story:
Nige: “I’d heard a bit about that on the news on the radio. Apparently he shagged this blonde hair-dresser, and told her not to tell anyone.”
Eric: “I heard a bit of that. Didn’t he stop halfway through to be sick on the floor?”
Nige: “Yes. She must have been a looker.”

After a pause for thinking, Eric says: “Do you think he got into trouble for diving in the box?”
Followed up with: “Do you think he got pulled-off at half-time.”

Nige’s dinner disappointment

Nige came back from the canteen around 12.30;
Me: “What have you had for your dinner then Nige?”
Nige: “I’ve bought a pasty. I was going to have dinner down in the canteen with Mel (his wife), but she wanted to go on the internet instead.”
Lorna: “Don’t worry we’ll talk to you while you have your dinner.”
Me: “Well actually, I thought I’d go on the internet at dinnertime too.”

How did you find your way in, in the dark?

Junior has been coming in early, because he has loads of flexitime to make up near the end of the month. He came in this morning around eight o’clock (I get in at 7.30, it doesn’t get light really until; 8.30) and I happened to be by the door when he arrived. I asked how he managed to find his way in, in the dark. He laughed it off with an “Is this what I’ve got to expect all day for showing up for a good days work?” I bit my tongue, but was dying to carry on about if he was actually going to do a full days work. He then collapsed into his chair and confessed that he wasn’t really fully awake, and was going to settle in for a bit before actually starting any work.
He went on to tell us how much he’d had to drink last night, and that he didn’t enjoy it and he was only drinking “because it was there.”
Later on he instigated an early trip down to the canteen, where he bad-mouthed the food in earshot of the staff, then asked for a particular sausage off the hot-plate because it looked nicer than the rest. Before he left the counter though he told the woman serving that he could smell stuffing. The woman told him that it must be her Albas oil, which she had on a tissue in her pocket, because she’d got a cold. Then she took her tissue out and waved it about, then put it back and carried on serving.

Since the New Year the canteen staff have been coming round with a trolley full of sandwich selections at dinnertime, so people don’t necessarily have to go down and queue up at dinnertime in the canteen. Having been on holiday on Friday I asked if I had missed anything, did anything happen? Did Clive move? One of the Steves said that Clive hadn’t moved, other than when the trolley came round at dinnertime. “He buys his dinner from the trolley now does he?” I asked “I wouldn’t be surprised on Friday (Payday) if he doesn’t try and buy the whole trolley.”

Fashion over function

In the queue for breakfast I got next to a couple of people I knew from the third floor. I had to exchange pleasantries and ask how their Christmas was. Jo complained that it’s all over too quickly. I told her that it’s months of build-up for a couple of days, and it’s all an anti climax:
Me: “…And Santa never brings you what you really want.” (she laughs for a bit)
Jo: “Well I got what I wanted.”
Me: “What did you get then?”
Jo: “I got a few things…like my watch.”

Then she unveils a square, silver DKNY watch, with DKNY spelt out on the face in jewels of some kind. The hands, however, were tiny and there are no numbers on the face.
Me: “Has it got hands on?”
Jo: “Yes, look.”
Me: “How do you know which way up it goes?”
Jo: “That’s the right way up.”
Me: “How do you know what the time is with no numbers on?”
Dave: “Yes, it’s impossible to tell the time with it.”
Jo: “It’s ten to nine look.”
Dave: “What if it’s dark? How can you tell the time then?”
Jo: “I can’t tell the time in the dark, or in the car. I can’t just quickly look down and tell the time.”
Me: “Are those real diamonds?
Jo: “…They must be.”

She seemed happy that it was nice to look at, even though telling the time was impossible.