So, I was sitting at my desk. The office was early morning empty, and I heard the deliberate steps of Goodo as he strided up to my desk: “Harro!” I greeted him without turning around, and waited expectantly for him to launch into some complexicated discussion about history, geography or everything Russia. It didn’t come: “Harro”, he replied evenly. I waited, still with my back turned. Silence. I stopped typing and peered around quizzically: “Vas do you vant?” I asked– “This is for you”, he said solemnly. I tried to see what it was, but his frame blocked my view and before I could protest, he had reached over my shoulder, unfurled his fist and placed an apple stalk squarely on my desk, next to my water jug.
I stared at it as he made his quick getaway: his Hugo Boss suit jacket flapping out behind him. I stretched up, shook my fist, and shouted over my computer screen, as he careened around the corner: “Don’t you go leaving me your apple stalks!!!” He turned for a split second as if to say “Suckerrrr!” and I rolled my eyes far far back into their orbits.
Then, just as quickly as they had emerged, our respective inner childs slipped back in as he went off to interview a potential employee, I set the apple stalk on my stapler and went back to typing, and the office returned to its early morning empty.
