It is 5 pm. I need to leave in ten minutes if I want to be on time. The library is crowded, packed with brain-washed, selfish but gregarious students drinking from the vanity waters of London. I am in a rush, and I tend to be edgy and grumpy when I am in a rush. Sometimes do not. Sometimes do. I mean... You know... . I need to print large documents and, although there are four printers, the area is ground zero for jumpiness. Of course, the main tray runs out of paper just in my turn. It sucks paper from another, but goes slowly. The guy behind me has already sent his job and becomes nervous. I become nervous. "It is going to take a while... Let me see... How do you open the tray door?"; "I've already sent the job"; "Perhaps you can use this other printer (I point out)"; "I've already sent the job; just one page... How long is it gonna take?"; "(hotter) It is going to take a while; it is a long document and there is no paper in the main try... How do you open the... tray?"; "(hot sigh) I've already sent the job".
The guy suddenly jerks away. In a minute, he shows up back and walks toward the machine opposite to mine. "Excuse me...". The girl printing her work there (it takes just 60 heart-beats to have an available machine occupied again) reluctantly moves back a quarter of an inch and the guy sends his job again in the second machine... But the girl is taking longer than I. Her machine is going slower, desperately slower. Suddenly, students start coming out from the corners of the ground, from underneath tables, chairs and the borrow/renew placards, I swear I saw them diffusing through the walls from outside. The population soars up to a million. Noise, noise, noise. Something goes wrong with the second machine. The maintenance guy shows up. My heart pounds fast, "c'mon, c'mon, relax, there is no need...". I am really scare of myself in panicking situations. How would have I behaved if I had been on board the Titanic? Oh, horror! I am just another George Constanza pushing away children and old aunties struggling in baby-walkers while screaming: "Fire! Fire!".
I finish. I finish! The chaos is considerable. I haven't seen something like that since the time I visited the Spanish Consulate in London to renew my passport. How is it possible people can feel any pinch of comfort in such gregarious atmosphere? It is the point where the entire social network, from the Zulu Islands to Azerbaijan, has become flesh!
I check that my documents are complete and notice that the last page is not mine. Of course, it is the guy's just-one-page. I sigh in relieve. At least... . I look around but I cannot find the guy. Does he have left? I would understand if he got crossed and said "f***, s***, f*** them, come back later". Would it he? I look down to the last sheet of paper. A circle mark is on the top, centered: "FIND YOUR DREAM JOB". And below: "The Top Performer's Agreement: I ______________ accept the challenge of becoming a top performer by committing to the following six key tenets:". "What is this?" I say: "what...?". I fly off my eyes down to the bottom: "Please print and sign this agreement and fax it back to me at XXX-XXX-XXXX or email it to me at XXXXX@XXXXX.XXX with the subject line, "Top Performers Agreement". Oh... . I feel curious now, surprised. This was something I have never come across with and started to wonder what purpose someone could have by offering this idea out and, conversely, taking it. I still don't know. All one can get when popping in the web page displayed in the mail is this: http://www.iwillteachyoutoberich.com/dreamjob/. Pffff!... No comment.
"Where is this guy? Where has he gone?". The guy is gone, gone, gone. I eye then at the key rules to become a top performer. A total of six simple rules. The sixth: "I will honor the 5 hours a week I committed to complete this strategically-designed course and (...)". The fifth: "I will not quit when things get challenged (...)"... LOL... Well, the guy is gone, is he not? I wouldn't honor much something that did not operate any change on me: the first little challenge, and I did give up.
(PLEASE, LEAVE YOUR COMMENT).
The guy suddenly jerks away. In a minute, he shows up back and walks toward the machine opposite to mine. "Excuse me...". The girl printing her work there (it takes just 60 heart-beats to have an available machine occupied again) reluctantly moves back a quarter of an inch and the guy sends his job again in the second machine... But the girl is taking longer than I. Her machine is going slower, desperately slower. Suddenly, students start coming out from the corners of the ground, from underneath tables, chairs and the borrow/renew placards, I swear I saw them diffusing through the walls from outside. The population soars up to a million. Noise, noise, noise. Something goes wrong with the second machine. The maintenance guy shows up. My heart pounds fast, "c'mon, c'mon, relax, there is no need...". I am really scare of myself in panicking situations. How would have I behaved if I had been on board the Titanic? Oh, horror! I am just another George Constanza pushing away children and old aunties struggling in baby-walkers while screaming: "Fire! Fire!".
I finish. I finish! The chaos is considerable. I haven't seen something like that since the time I visited the Spanish Consulate in London to renew my passport. How is it possible people can feel any pinch of comfort in such gregarious atmosphere? It is the point where the entire social network, from the Zulu Islands to Azerbaijan, has become flesh!
I check that my documents are complete and notice that the last page is not mine. Of course, it is the guy's just-one-page. I sigh in relieve. At least... . I look around but I cannot find the guy. Does he have left? I would understand if he got crossed and said "f***, s***, f*** them, come back later". Would it he? I look down to the last sheet of paper. A circle mark is on the top, centered: "FIND YOUR DREAM JOB". And below: "The Top Performer's Agreement: I ______________ accept the challenge of becoming a top performer by committing to the following six key tenets:". "What is this?" I say: "what...?". I fly off my eyes down to the bottom: "Please print and sign this agreement and fax it back to me at XXX-XXX-XXXX or email it to me at XXXXX@XXXXX.XXX with the subject line, "Top Performers Agreement". Oh... . I feel curious now, surprised. This was something I have never come across with and started to wonder what purpose someone could have by offering this idea out and, conversely, taking it. I still don't know. All one can get when popping in the web page displayed in the mail is this: http://www.iwillteachyoutoberich.com/dreamjob/. Pffff!... No comment.
"Where is this guy? Where has he gone?". The guy is gone, gone, gone. I eye then at the key rules to become a top performer. A total of six simple rules. The sixth: "I will honor the 5 hours a week I committed to complete this strategically-designed course and (...)". The fifth: "I will not quit when things get challenged (...)"... LOL... Well, the guy is gone, is he not? I wouldn't honor much something that did not operate any change on me: the first little challenge, and I did give up.
(PLEASE, LEAVE YOUR COMMENT).
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