WHISPER WHILE YOU WORK

It’s rare to have an office day on a Friday, but… here we are. London. Londre, Londonius, Londinium - the beating heart of our national shimmering griminess. What a treat.

Actually, I don’t need my sarcastic hat today.

It turned out to be quite enjoyable getting here - an empty train, sun rising over the fields and factories, podcast in the ears, and the smell of fresh coffee in the carriage. Normally it’s armpit-to-armpit scrummage. Today felt a lot more old-fashioned.

That’s Friday for you - the masses stay at home and the commute becomes old-fashioned. Even the city itself, emerging from the underground, seemed hopeful about it, the morning sun blinking its way across the tall stone buildings. Were they remembering their old lives as merchant banks and trading houses?

Well no; they’re not sentient. But it’s nice to be poetic every now and again. I arrived at the office in a much better mood than usual, dropping an empty Starbucks cup into the bin and coming close to whistling as I waited for the lift.

I doubt much whistling goes on in London. Obviously bin men and road workers push up the average, but I’d still wager the number of people whistling at any one time in the capital is low.

I didn’t whistle though. I figured it might unsettle the girl on reception.

One of the great things about being in the capital on a Friday is that when you go home… it’s still Friday, and somehow that makes the return journey sweeter, in turn making the build-up to the return journey proportionally sweeter too. So that’s good.

Whipsering’s a lost art too, I think. I find it hard these days - not sure why. Though, an odd thing did happen: someone whispered something to someone else knowing full well I could also hear it, and was the only other person in the room. A secret perhaps, something they weren’t sure they ought to say. Perhaps it was ultra caution but… I’m not so sure. I started wondering whether it’s a subconscious admission that a thing is morally wrong, and so must be hidden, at least whispered carefully. Interesting bit of human behaviour I thought.

Then, if anyone had been analysing me today, I wonder what field days they’d have had. I have to keep myself focused on the screen sometimes in the office, just so my face doesn’t accidentally give me away.

So a good day in London I suppose. But the best bit as ever, will be the going home. Hi ho.