Some days, while being very busy, nothing much happens. Today was one of those.
The highlight was this view on the way to the station (given it’s now dark when I walk home and I see nothing).
View along Borelli Walk - to the station
Of course I went to work and amended another 50 odd records – a plethora of feeding cups; some interesting, most not – but this was about it. The most exciting thing that happened was at lunch when a woman upset an entire plate of salad.
She was with two chaps (maybe one was her husband, maybe both were, I don’t know), a pram and a small child. I had already been stuck behind them in the sandwich selection area (just wide enough to be completely blocked if one person stands in front of it) as she read every label, on every sandwich. They also spent a very long time deciding how many trays they needed. They started with three and wound up with one, after a lot of debate and tray shuffling across the entrance to the food service part. I managed to skip ahead of them to grab my coffee and took a seat.
They then arrived adjacent to me and plonked themselves down. I had also noticed another museum employee (other than me, I mean) who had pushed ahead of the queue of people at the cash register who was sitting a few seats in front of me. I noticed because, firstly I was annoyed and secondly because I couldn’t work out what gender it was.
I shuffled off these minor concerns and settled back (as much as you can in the cacophony of noise that is lunchtime at the Science Museum) to read. Suddenly the woman cried out and I was just in time to see her plate of salad take flight. Most of it landed on the head of her child in the pram which elicited a surprised response. The rest of it hit the floor.
This wouldn’t normally be such a big thing but the salad had quite a few cherry tomatoes included with it and they rolled everywhere, valiantly attempting to avoid shoes. Many were lost – I can imagine the tomato history books describing it as the Day of the Squish – but a few managed to roll free, straight to the seat of the non-gender specific person who jumped up, indignantly, head swishing left and right, searching for the culprit. The woman, meanwhile, was happily ignoring it all. She was eating the remains of her lunch as her child gurgled around bits of lettuce, dressing running down it’s nose.
Suddenly a café person appeared, distinguishable by her uniform, speaking to the indignant employee. She joined in the search, spotting the trail of salad which led to the pram. Just as sudden as her appearance, she vanished to return shortly with a broom and one of those dustpans on the long handle. Expertly she swept up to the woman until she moved, grudgingly.
While this had all been going on, the child had managed to invent a new game. It’s called ‘Chuck all the salad that mummy threw on me everywhere under the table, seeing how inaccessible it could get’. There was a lot kafuffle with the woman having to remove all her bags from under the table as the restaurant woman swept and swept and swept.
Placated, the employee of no specific gender finally sat down again as peace returned (that’s pretty relative as peace is not something you normally get in the restaurant at lunchtime).
So, effectively, that was it for my day today. I’m avoiding talking about the feeding cups as they were so dull, I’d rather not be reminded.
In order for my readers to visualise where I work, I include the photo below. I work in a basement, topped by a skylight so that when I lean back in my chair and have a good old stretch, this is what I see. Inspiring, eh?
View from my Monday desk
This is only on Mondays, of course, as I sit at Kevin’s desk on a Friday. He has no skylight.
Some people are so clumsy, and what a miserable out look you have Gary. Maybe you should paint a few flowers on the skylight, that would cheer the place up. love mum
That’s ghastly. I have told my new employer I must have an office with a window – they better not think anything like this would suffice.