every good Librarian deserves cocktails
Jun. 9th, 2016 02:19 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
incandescensA Senior Figure at work is going to be hot-desking next to our team tomorrow, and wandering around so he can get a feel for our jobs and get to know us. (And similar management-speak.) It would probably be a good idea to make sure that I am tidily dressed and that I get into work on the earlier side rather than the later side, however reasonable our team leader is about letting us having a sliding scale of arrive-and-leave work timing. Fate can be tempted, but it is not always a good idea to do so.
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She brushed a stray hair back into place. “The least you can do is offer me a drink,” she said calmly. “God knows I’ve come far enough to get one.”
There was a pause, almost a stunned silence, and then the man burst out laughing. But his laughter was a little forced, as though he was using it as a stopgap while he decided what to do next. “You’ve got just the cutest accent, Miss Jeanette. I should hire you to read the phone book to me all day long. Sure, have a seat. Dave, you fetch the little lady here a drink. What’d you care for?”
“I’ll have a Black Russian,” Irene said, as she walked forward to the indicated armchair. She could hear Lily’s footsteps behind her, high heels ticking on the tiled floor like a countdown.
The second man, who’d got to his feet, halted. “What’s that?” he asked.
Oh, wonderful, Irene thought. Yet again a Librarian engages in cross-cultural contamination.
---
She brushed a stray hair back into place. “The least you can do is offer me a drink,” she said calmly. “God knows I’ve come far enough to get one.”
There was a pause, almost a stunned silence, and then the man burst out laughing. But his laughter was a little forced, as though he was using it as a stopgap while he decided what to do next. “You’ve got just the cutest accent, Miss Jeanette. I should hire you to read the phone book to me all day long. Sure, have a seat. Dave, you fetch the little lady here a drink. What’d you care for?”
“I’ll have a Black Russian,” Irene said, as she walked forward to the indicated armchair. She could hear Lily’s footsteps behind her, high heels ticking on the tiled floor like a countdown.
The second man, who’d got to his feet, halted. “What’s that?” he asked.
Oh, wonderful, Irene thought. Yet again a Librarian engages in cross-cultural contamination.
