Read Online Terms & Conditions by Robert Glancy - Free Book Online Page B

gulped down a series of tiny sobs and said, ‘Sorry, Doug. I’m a horrible mess . . .’
    Men aren’t conditioned for emotional encounters so we found ourselves temporarily stuck. I smiled, sipped my drink, and hid my teary face behind the lip of my cup. I gained a little control, cleaned my face, and felt the silence grow around us.
    In what I assumed was an attempt to break our awkward moment, Doug suddenly jumped up and said, ‘Hey, come on. Want to see something amazing, Frank?’
    But after my blaze of revelations, hardened in the kiln of shock, I mumbled, ‘Sorry, Doug, but nothing more could amaze me today.’
    â€˜Nonsense. Trust me, Frank. You’ll love this.’
    He walked across his office to a couch that was in keeping with his style: functional, brown, something no-nonsense and Scandinavian about it.
    â€˜I hear all sorts of silly rumours about myself in this place, Frank. That I spend hours in deep mathematical meditation. But the truth is I just love taking catnaps.’
    And with this Doug pulled a lever and the couch folded out into a thin bed. Doug took such delight in this little moment that it made me laugh (and the unexpected sound of my own laughter – so long unheard – made me laugh more).
    Doug laughed at me laughing, we relaxed a little, and both stared at how odd the bed looked in such a strict office environment. I didn’t feel embarrassed about crying any more. I blew my nose hard. By that stage if the man had run me a bath I’d happily have stripped down and plunged in – such was the harmony of my vulnerability and Doug’s reassurance. So, without another word, I walked over and lay on the bed.
    Then – just as I started to feel a touch self-conscious about lying there – sleep grabbed me. When I woke Doug was gone but he’d left a note:
    Frank – got a short meeting but back soon.
    Stay where you are. Relax. I told Oscar you were with me and all’s well. Sleep lots.
    PS Feel free to raid my ‘drinks cabinet’ – the green tea is powerful stuff!
    I tried to get out of bed fast to establish the fact that I was fine. The room spun so hard I screamed, ‘Earthquake!’ before realising it was me doing the spinning. The scar on my forehead throbbed like a warning light and I sat down. I got up slowly this time. The world still had a woozy tilt but I was feeling a little better as I walked across the office. Looking out the window – ignoring my ghostly reflection staring back at me – I saw across the way the offices of Shaw&Sons and recalled how I felt about the place I spent most of my life.

TERMS & CONDITIONS OF MY OFFICE
    Institutions that do the most damage are often the dullest.
    My office is deathly dull. We all hate each other but – given the terms and conditions of office life – we all pretend to get along. After the revelations about #### I began to look around, to evaluate the company I worked for – this place that bore my name – and started to see it for what it was. A place of dull bureaucratic evil. Though you wouldn’t know it to see it. We disguise our dealing well. The walls are painted bright colours in some lame attempt to distract from the blackness all around. Some of the meeting rooms have purple sofas and oversized lampshades, which makes them look like the set of a kids’ TV show. We even have a green shag carpet (the fluff sticks to the soles of my shoes so at the end of the day it looks like I kicked a Muppet to death). The sofas, carpets and bright colours are trendy, apparently; they’re trying to make the office seem fun and innocent. It doesn’t work.*
    * It makes it more depressing. Like painting rainbows and fairies on the walls of children’s hospitals. It doesn’t fool anyone. Especially not children, who instinctively know all life’s tragic terms and conditions. They know you can’t cover pain and death