You and Me Against the World

"Why are you still here?" She, Judith Chapman, my boss, looked at me from her side of the desk. She had called me into her office to ask me that?

"It's not knocking off time."

"No, that's not what I meant. You have been working here for the last twenty years, you're getting trampled on by all the young guys clambering up the corporate ladder to success, yet you're still here. Why?"

This is a question that I have been asking myself for years, why the fuck am I still here? It's not that I love my job, I don't hate it but let's face it, when you've been doing the same job for as long as I have, it's hard to love it. It's not as if I'll ever get a promotion to something above my present grade, I'm not young and trendy enough for that. It's not as if the other staff consider me to be a friend. Don't get me wrong, they're polite enough, especially when they're picking my brains about something, but they never ask me to join them for after work drinks.

"If you really want to know, it's because I'm a coward."

"What do you mean?"

"Because I'm scared of leaving and looking for another job. I mean, let's be real here, who in their right mind would take on an old bloke like me, I'm a dinosaur. I can't afford to be out of work."

"I would have thought that you'd be financially secure."

"I would have been except for one thing. My lovely wife wanted a divorce and took me to the cleaners in the process. The house that I had almost paid off, single handedly I might add, suddenly became hers and I was out on the streets with not enough money to start over again with a new mortgage. At my age the chances of getting a mortgage are non-existent, so I'm stuck in a rental house that takes up a large percentage of my money."

"Don't you have family, kids, that you can call on?"

"By the time she'd got through telling them what a bastard I was, they weren't even speaking to me."

"Richard, the real reason that I asked you to come in is . . . Do you know why it is that I'm in this office instead of you?"

"Because I stuffed up my interview? I don't know."

"No. If the truth be known you interviewed better than I did. When Henry resigned he recommended you as his replacement as Manager. For whatever reason, the board had other ideas, they didn't want a Henry clone in the chair, so they insisted on advertising the position. The official explanation was that there was very little difference between us as far as qualifications and experience goes, but mine was as an Office Manager, and that they were introducing what they call an 'affirmative action' policy that says that where two candidates for a position have equal claims, the job should go to the woman to even up the gender imbalance."

"I guess that's fair enough."

"No it's not. You have the right qualifications for this job, and you know more about the running of this organisation than anyone else, you should have got it. I'm not much more than a glorified bean counter."

"What if I don't want the job?"

"Are you telling me that you don't?"

"No, just what if I don't?"

"Well then I guess that you just continue to drift through life as you have done since I've been here. But let me tell you Richard, you're a better man than that. You have the potential to succeed in whatever you put your mind to, it's just a matter of you deciding to do something about it."

"What do you suggest I do? I can just about do my job with my eyes closed."

"That's just it, we need all of the staff to be as efficient as you, that way we can run our business more efficiently."

"Look, years ago I tried to tell one of the new guys how to speed up his throughput, but he told me in no uncertain terms that I was a dinosaur, and that he was top of his class at University and knew all of the latest methods."

"So, how do you do it?"

"Promise not to tell?"

"Yes."

"Quantity Surveying is knowing as much about the client as it is about the method. I work with several Architects and Builders that I've known for years. I know both the standard of designs and specifications put out by the Architects, and the standard of workmanship that the Builders insist on. At every step of the construction process each relies on the other, and that makes my life easy. Not only can I take off the exact quantities of materials straight from the drawing, but I can set out such things as timber lengths so that orders can be submitted to the suppliers to minimise handling in the assembly process. For instance," I went and got a plan that I had been working on from my desk, "From this plan I can take measurements of this stud wall and give the timber supplier exact to the millimetre lengths of the top and bottom plates, the wall studs, noggings and cross braces. These builders still use timber bracing. I can also set out the spacing of the studs so that the supplier can cut the housing joints in the plates and in the studs for the braces. Each component of each section of frame is numbered so that the First Fix Carpenters can lay it out and assemble it quickly. I know how long it takes for them to assemble each section of wall frame because I've watched them do it, so I can calculate with a high degree of accuracy, the labour cost involved. These Builders all have a reputation for quality of work with few, if any, add on costs due to unforseen problems. The other thing is that they do not use those pneumatic nail guns that modern house assemblers use."

"But if they don't use nail guns don't they spend a lot of time hammering in nails?"

"No, and this is the good part. One of the Builders used a bit of lateral thinking to come up with a device that can shoot in normal wire nails almost as fast as using a nail gun. The Carpenter feeds a nail into the machine and places the point where the nail is to go and pushes down on the machine and it bangs the nail in. Simple."

"I've never seen anything like that advertised."

"And you won't. The guy that designed it has it patented and has only built enough for the other Builders. He doesn't plan to make any more."

"It must have cost a fortune to develop, surely."

"Not as much as you'd think, the basic operation was modified from existing machines. And the other Builders helped with the development on the understanding that they would be the only ones to have one. The Architects and I helped out as well but we didn't ask for, or expect, any return on our investment apart from exclusive access to work."

"Don't you have problems if the timbers get mixed up?"

"That will never happen. Look at this wall frame," I pointed to a section of wall framing. "The top plates for the outside walls are numbered, starting from '1' in red, to tell the Carpenters which section of the wall it is, then 'TPI' or "TPO to indicate which side faces in or out. The same goes for the bottom plates, except that they are marked 'BPI' and 'BPO'. The studs are numbered from the left always and the cross brace is marked 'I' or 'O' as required. All of the components for each wall section are bundled together so that they can't get mixed up, and transported on site. The Carpenters lay the frame out on the floor, place corner clamps on each corner to ensure that the wall is square and, while one goes around with his tube of construction adhesive squirting a dollop on each joint, another follows him with the nailer. I have seen them assemble and erect a whole section of wall frame in just on twenty minutes."

"But, if the supplier does all of that cutting out, doesn't it cost more for the timber?"

"The initial cost is higher, but because the supplier has the proper machinery to do the job, we find that the added cost is more than defrayed by the on-site cost savings. Swings and roundabouts. I have been to the timber supplier's factory and watched them machining a wall section. Once the plates and studs are cut to length and marked up, the plates are clamped together in special clamps and moved along a bench that has a radial arm saw with a special cutter wheel on it that is set to the width of the housing joint. As the two plates are fed in by an off-sider, the cuts are made, each takes less than five seconds. Once that has been done, the plates are laid on the ground and the studs slotted in. It is squared up and clamped with similar clamps as those that the Carpenters use in assembly, and the cross braces marked out. The studs then go through the same process as the plates, only this time the saw is set at the correct angle for the cut. Even the noggings where the braces cross them, are cut out. All of the housing joints can be cut out in under ten minutes, and the whole process takes little more than fifteen. All the wall framing for a three bedroom house can be cut and packed in under a day. Assembly takes less than a day, so you can see why these guys are so successful, it costs little if any, more than the standard construction, but they can guarantee that every wall is plumb, every corner is square, and it ain't gunna move."

"Do you know, sitting here with you and listening to you talking about your work, I realise now that you aren't the dull boring old fart that everyone things you are. Underneath that gruff exterior is a man who takes great pride in not only his own work, but supporting others who take similar pride in theirs. This really does confirm what the books tell me."

"What lying books would they be?"

"I need to get to know you much better." She said, changing the subject. "And do you know what I'm going to do?"

"No, but I'm sure that you'll tell me."

"I am going to take you to dinner and, over some truly excellent food and even more excellent wine, you and I are going to get to know each other better."

"Won't your husband get upset if you're going out with me?"

"He would if he ever found out about it, but that would be impossible."

"How can you be sure of that, I could even tell him myself."

"I don't think so, you see he's spread all over the place. I tossed his ashes off a cliff and they blew everywhere."

"Oh. In that case I can't see that there will be a problem if you and I have dinner together, can you?"

"None whatsoever. Shall we go?"

We went.

She was right, the food was truly excellent, only surpassed by the wine.

"I know that you've had a rough trot of it since your wife decided that you were surplus to requirements and traded you in on a newer model, and that for a while you were a little hard to live with . . . . "

"Only a little, you've obviously been listening to the wrong people. The general consensus being that I was a pain in the arse."

"I was being polite. I fully understand what you were going through, which is more than I can say for your work colleagues. In your position I would have taken a time-out and got away from it all."

"But you aren't me, I couldn't let my clients down."

"I'm sure that they would have understood."

"They did. A meeting of all parties concerned was called at which they unanimously agreed to support me in any way possible while I sorted my life out. This support included dinner invitations on a regular basis and putting me in touch with a computer geek who came up with a program that does most of my work for me. If the truth be known, the majority of my work can be done in half the time that I spend on it, and most of it I do at home. What I do in the office is to mainly check the figures, and to tweak the programme around any design and method changes."

"What I don't understand is, with your knowledge and the system that you have in place, why are you still working for Hallston's?"

"Purely financial. In my divorce settlement, my wife the bitch got half of my Superannuation entitlements up to the date of separation. If I chuck my job in now I'll have bugger all to live on, but if I stick it out until I'm 65, I get my full entitlement, at least what's left of it."

"What do you do with your spare time?"

"I try to play golf as much as possible, I'm not that good at it."

"What's your handicap?"

"Lack of co-ordination mainly. I can tell you after my first tee shot how it's going to go. If I nail that first stroke it has only one way to go from there, downhill."

"I'm sure that it's not that bad. How would you like to play a round with me?"

"When you say 'a round' is that one word or two? We are talking about golf here, aren't we?"

"Yes, I'm talking about golf."

"Well then, yes I would like to play a round with you. When did you have in mind?" I emphasised the 'a round' separation.

"How does Saturday morning sound?"

"Sounds good to me, what time?"

"Early, tee off at 8:30, okay?"

"Sure, where?"

"Grange, do you want to meet me there or would you like me to pick you up on my way past?"

"I would like that, if it's no bother."

"Good, now would you pour me another wine while I go to the 'little girls' room?"

I absent-mindedly poured the wine, the part of my mind that was present and functioning was wondering what was happening here and where it was leading. Until today I was drifting through life on auto-pilot, not taking in what was happening outside my narrow existence, and then, this. I'm not complaining mind you, it's just so unexpected, I didn't even think she knew I existed. We had barely spoken up until today, I certainly hadn't gone out of my way to initiate a conversation with her, and she seemed so preoccupied with running the business that I didn't feel that I should interrupt unless it was necessary."

"That's a relief." She said as she sat down. "What are we having for dessert?"

"I hadn't really thought about it. What are you having?"

"I confess to being partial to their Crème Caramel."

"I'll have the same then." It had been years since I had tasted one of these.

The Waiter was summoned and the order given. "Now where were we? Apart from the odd game of golf, what else do you do in your spare time?"

"I experiment with house designs. I have a home design programme on my computer that I use, it's a glorified CAD programme. The one that I'm working on at present is a sort of radical modern take on a traditional design that is thermally efficient and energy self-sufficient. The basic footprint is a large square and the roof is a square hipped roof. It has a large veranda on all sides the keep the heat from the outer walls. The apex of the roof is a glass pyramid cupola to allow light into the central full height atrium. It is double glazed to reduce heat penetration. The central atrium is octagonal over an open spaced kitchen with a utilities area behind it. One of the Architects has offered his design expertise and experience with the planning process to get the plans through the council approval stage, while one of the builders has offered to build it at, as close to cost as possible. If I work to 65 my Super payout should just about cover it."

"I'd like to see your plans, if you would let me that is."

"I'll bring them in tomorrow."

"I know that you're out of practise at taking a hint. I guess that I'll have to spell it out for you. I would like to see your plans tonight."

"Oh, I don't know about that, my place is not fit for entertaining, housekeeping is not one of my strong points. When I get engrossed in work or a project, it is a fair way down the priority list."

"And you're going to let a little thing like a messy house prevent you from showing off your plans. You'll have to do better than that to keep me from seeing them."

"You don't give up do you? Now I know why you are so good at your job."

"Flattery won't get you out of this." She stood and waited for me to follow suit. As we left the restaurant she signalled, with her index finger waving over the palm of her left hand, that they were to put tonight's meal on her tab.

"Goodnight Ms Cameron, did you enjoy your meal?"

"Yes, it was excellent, but then I expect nothing less from you."

"Be sure to come again, soon." The Maître D's smiling face bowed slightly to her.

"Always, and you know that."

"You obviously eat here often."

"As often as I feel like."

"Alone, or do you only take guests here to show off?"

"Don't you go getting jealous on me. I have been known to have guests, but mostly it is by myself. It's a case of self-preservation on my part, I'm scared that I might poison myself with my own cooking."

"Come now, it can't be that bad, surely?"

"Almost as bad as your housekeeping."

"And how would you know about . . . ." I stopped, deafened by the penny dropping. She was making sure that I didn't worm my way out of showing her the plans. "All right, I'll show them to you. Do you want to leave your car here and I'll drop you back after you've seen the plans, or would you rather follow me?"

"What I want is to leave my car here and you can drop me here in the morning, on your way to work."

"Oh." My rusted from lack of use brain was slowly realising that she was merely using the plans as an excuse to spend the night with me. I didn't know how to handle this situation. Much as I wanted to feel once more the close personal contact with a woman, a good looking woman I had to admit, I didn't want to relinquish control of my life to her. I have had experience with ceding control to a woman, and it was a bitter experience that I had no great desire for a repetition of, and I know that last sentence was not grammatically, but in correct, but in my confusion I didn't give a shit about syntax. "You'd better come with me then." I'll play it by ear and hope to retain control of the situation.

"You're worried that this is moving too fast for your comfort zone to handle. Don't be, I won't bite you, unless you want me to."

Damn, she has been skirting around the sexual issue and now, the meaning of that last statement had a definite sexual meaning to it. "No biting, I can't handle pain of any sort."

"Consider me warned. Pleasure it will have to be then." The leer that she gave me left me in no doubt as to her intentions. "Look, to put your mind at ease, I am not some sort of sexual Piranha out to devour any male that I can get my hands on. If the truth be known, I'm as scared of this as you are. I have had nothing more than a couple of casual encounters in the past five years since my husband died, un-satisfactory casual encounters. I have been trying to find someone that I could love and want to be with since then, unsuccessfully until now. I have been keeping an eye on you for some time. There is just so much that you can learn from personnel records, and they don't give you any indication of the real person. Behind that Great Wall of China that you hide behind is a man that I want to get to know very much. Does that scare you?"

"No. I have to admit that I have given no thought to a new relationship and, while I find you interesting, I have deliberately kept my thoughts to myself and you at arm's length. I do not want to expose myself to a woman ever again."

"Does that mean? No scrub that, I won't mention sex again."

"Here we are." I said as I turned into my driveway. "It's nothing fancy, I wasn't looking to impress when I leased it."

I opened the front door and ushered her inside. She looked around as she took her coat off and draped it over a lounge chair. "Nice, messy but nice. It has that lived in look." She had run a finger along the shelf that contained my collection of vinyl albums and looked closely at it. "No dust."

"Would you like a cup of coffee before you look at the plans, or after?" I asked.

"How about during."

I went into the kitchen to make the coffee, "It's only instant I'm afraid." I called over my shoulder as I spooned coffee into cups.

"Instant's fine. You've got some good stuff here." She said, reading an album cover.

"Yeah, I've been collecting since I was a kid and just couldn't stop. On weekends I trawl garage sales looking for good quality albums, I have over 300 at last count."