Investors and impressions

The investors were back in this morning. I want to make an impression and it began with “Can I get anyone some coffee?” – I sound like Charlotte but the idea is to demonstrate that I’m a human being too. “Coffee” they parrot in unison like they’ve been practicing.

An impression was made but not the one intended. On opening the kitchen door that adjoins the conference room where the investors were all seated, I stumble over Brenda’s stout legs. The rest of her is slumped, out cold atop the counter. Drowsily, she raises her head – it’s swollen, it's beaten, it's got the pattern of her sweat-shirt sleeve embossed in her right cheek. A piece of croissant clings doggedly to her hair.

Klaas is livid and sends her home. It’s not that he has a problem with anyone pissing away an evening but it should have zero (ZERO) effect on performance the following day. In the States – apparently – this is a fireable offence.

"Didn’t you notice? You must have!" His palms are raised heavenwards.
"Er… Klaas… investors. Duh!" I stomp off for a detailed review of my junk mail.

Brenda manages a brief and unconvincing apology before taking herself off for the day. Sadly, she still tops the turnover league for April thus far.