Plastering the Competition

I closed the video call and slumped back in my desk chair with a sigh. The soft leather protested slightly, then gave in and stopped complaining.

Taking off my glasses, I pinched the bridge of my nose, frowning at the beginnings of a headache (even though I knew it was just going to make the eventual migraine worse). I briefly considered hitting the intercom button on my desk and summoning Debbie in to bring me a tablet, but the thought of that door bursting open and flooding nice, quiet office with the light and the noise of the cubicle-ridden hell-hole out there almost made me pass out.

Plus I’d have to deal with Debbie. Lately she’d taken to telling me all about annoying things, like the new chicken place that had opened on the corner, or that I needed to sign something so that that commercial plastering company near Melbourne could come and fix our ceiling. Boring.

With a sigh, I looked for a way to distract myself. My eyes immediately slid over the huge pile of contracts and work I needed to manage and landed on my desk drawer.

Perfect, I grinned to myself, sliding it out and wrapping my hands around my well-worn binoculars. Ostensibly they’d been for bird watching, but…

I spun around and lifted the shade on my window, thankful for it being an overcast afternoon, and immediately trained my eyes on the office across the street from us.

I had somewhat of a rivalry with the firm that worked from there. We’d traded friendly blows here and there across the years, outfoxing one another on the business battlefield. They thought they were so clever, with their expensive suits and expensive water coolers and their suspended ceilings.

I frowned. Did we have suspended ceilings? I made a mental note to ask Debbie.

I flicked my gaze over to the corner office, where I could see my chief rival, sitting on his desk bouncing a… was that a yo-yo?

I chuckled from behind the lenses. Oh, yeah. This was a much better use of my time.