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Fingers tapped fervently over the keyboard- words spilling onto the screen as the clock ticked in the background. Another progress report needed to be typed up before the weekend. They could've had this process automated for some time now, but here Richard was... copying data from one form to another. The office buzzed around him as people were finishing their projects for the day. It was nearly time for them all to punch the clock and head out. Of course, Richard wasn't going to be clocking out until this was done. Another over-time adventure where he'd be the last one out the door. The clock ticked to the final line and the whole office set off like a flock of birds. Clamoring bodies, people chatting and discussing plans as they closed everything down, filed everything away and set on their path homeward. Richard didn't even raise his eyes from the screen.
"Working late again are we?" He heard the familiar ring of a croaky voice stir behind him. Taking a quiet-but deep breath, he stopped his work and turned to face his manager.
"Yes Ma'am," He replied. "I'll have the report done before leaving, printed and put onto your desk for tomorrow's meeting." Richard informed the gray-haired woman standing at the edge of his tiny cubicle.
"Perfect. Make sure there aren't any typos this time, Richie... I don't want to look like a fool infront of the executives." She uttered with a sigh and turned to follow the rest of the flock out the door. He really did not like her calling him 'Richie'. She wasn't intolerable, just a normal boss. She over-extended her employees and payed only enough to keep them from leaving. She also had a habit of calling people nicknames. The least she could do was give him the dignity of being called by his own name.
Swiveling back around in his chair, he traced over the last lines he'd typed in before getting back into his groove. So many graphs... they sure loved their colorful graphs. Most of this could be contained within a succinct email. Still, they'd prefer a lengthy, wordy report full of frivolous charts and graphs. It was all just a show to make the big-heads happy. A deep sigh escaped him as he corrected a mis-type before saving the document before hitting the print button. The little loading icon popped up and Richard pushed his chair back while rising to his feet. Now all he had to do was retrieve the papers, copy them six times, staple each packet and place them in their respective folders before leaving for the night. His oxford shoes gently tapped against the cheap carpet flooring, sounding his arrival before he turned into the copier room to the sounds of the printer- and the sight of a man. Richard slowed as he entered- not having expected anyone else to be here this late. The moment their eyes met, Richard did the slight nod of acknowledgement before speaking up.
"Long day, right?" He uttered, trying to be atleast mildly neighborly. They both were working in this miserable place. Might as well not ruffle any feathers. His attention was more on the printer, though. He really needed to get this done with. He didn't want to be here any longer than he needed to be.
Fingers tapped fervently over the keyboard- words spilling onto the screen as the clock ticked in the background. Another progress report needed to be typed up before the weekend. They could've had this process automated for some time now, but here Richard was... copying data from one form to another. The office buzzed around him as people were finishing their projects for the day. It was nearly time for them all to punch the clock and head out. Of course, Richard wasn't going to be clocking out until this was done. Another over-time adventure where he'd be the last one out the door. The clock ticked to the final line and the whole office set off like a flock of birds. Clamoring bodies, people chatting and discussing plans as they closed everything down, filed everything away and set on their path homeward. Richard didn't even raise his eyes from the screen.
"Working late again are we?" He heard the familiar ring of a croaky voice stir behind him. Taking a quiet-but deep breath, he stopped his work and turned to face his manager.
"Yes Ma'am," He replied. "I'll have the report done before leaving, printed and put onto your desk for tomorrow's meeting." Richard informed the gray-haired woman standing at the edge of his tiny cubicle.
"Perfect. Make sure there aren't any typos this time, Richie... I don't want to look like a fool infront of the executives." She uttered with a sigh and turned to follow the rest of the flock out the door. He really did not like her calling him 'Richie'. She wasn't intolerable, just a normal boss. She over-extended her employees and payed only enough to keep them from leaving. She also had a habit of calling people nicknames. The least she could do was give him the dignity of being called by his own name.
Swiveling back around in his chair, he traced over the last lines he'd typed in before getting back into his groove. So many graphs... they sure loved their colorful graphs. Most of this could be contained within a succinct email. Still, they'd prefer a lengthy, wordy report full of frivolous charts and graphs. It was all just a show to make the big-heads happy. A deep sigh escaped him as he corrected a mis-type before saving the document before hitting the print button. The little loading icon popped up and Richard pushed his chair back while rising to his feet. Now all he had to do was retrieve the papers, copy them six times, staple each packet and place them in their respective folders before leaving for the night. His oxford shoes gently tapped against the cheap carpet flooring, sounding his arrival before he turned into the copier room to the sounds of the printer- and the sight of a man. Richard slowed as he entered- not having expected anyone else to be here this late. The moment their eyes met, Richard did the slight nod of acknowledgement before speaking up.
"Long day, right?" He uttered, trying to be atleast mildly neighborly. They both were working in this miserable place. Might as well not ruffle any feathers. His attention was more on the printer, though. He really needed to get this done with. He didn't want to be here any longer than he needed to be.
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