Office Hours: Tuesday at the Office (Part Three)

Tuesday, 6FEB2018, 1517 Local Time (0117 AZT)

The coffee bar would be lovely, if it weren’t for all the fucking people in it. It’s a warm, welcoming space, lots of hardwood in the construction, plenty of natural light, but it’s too small for all the people in it, at least as far as I’m concerned. Never understood the affection for populated, noisy spaces. Charlotte tried to explain it to me, the energy of a public space, the combination of ten or twenty individual lives into what she saw as the perfect background noise for just about anything. I’d try to explain that the noise was nothing but noise, and it didn’t combine into anything but an ugly jumble of half-audible sentences and incomplete thoughts. It was always one of those subjects where we both agreed to sit on our side of the couch and be convinced that we were the sane one…

Sorry, got sidetracked. The coffee bar. The small, narrow, civilian-packed coffee bar. If a shootout started in here, some poor bastard might be going home without a head. Just one more step to take care of before we start things proper. Staff is already killing the various boilers and burners, security is hiding around the corners of the exits, diverting away new clients and doing quick spot checks on the ones leaving, and Susan and Minette are both in position.