It occurred to me recently that, in my 12 years of working for various companies, there’s always been something weird about their physical location.
1993 – 1996: a building which used to be a snack-bar, situated right on the border between Belgium and France. You took a step to the right: in France. Step to the left: in Belgium.
1996 – 2004: a building situated alongside a provincial road which was literally riddled with second-hand car businesses. A steady stream of Polish, Czech and Albanian buyers would parade past our drive-up with their huge pickup trucks, park in front of it, come into the office to ask if by chance we sold Lamborghini’s, and there was the odd neanderthal who would defecate on the driveway. In full daylight. In full view of our surveillance camera’s. The building itself, incidently, used to be a car dealership.
2004 – present: a building located close to a cookie factory and – I kid you not – a horse manure recycling company. One day I’ll be arriving at work with the sweet smell of buttercookies gently curving its way into my nose, the next day it’ll be horse manure — whichever way the wind blows.
Can’t help but wonder what’s next…