RANDOM REMINDER

Press, Volume CXV, Issue 34030, 19 December 1975, Page 14

RANDOM REMINDER

BLEAK HOUSE

There is nothing quite like a Monday morning for bringing out the worst in people. Monday mornings are for real: they are not the invention of joke writers and cartoonists. There must be an inherent laziness somewhere, which makes most people feel the working week intolerably long. It is an unhappy fact, however, that a considerable section of the work force regards Monday morning as the fringe of a desert of drudgery, with • the oasis of Saturday barely in sight. It is very probable that some of the worst decisions, in business and in government, have been made on Monday mornings. The climate simply is not right. And the feel.

ing of depression is often contagious. So it was with a group assembled about the ground-floor lift doors in a large new Christchurch building a week or two ago. There were half a dozen of them — one a middle-aged lady, the rest sober, very sober businessmen, all clearly bearing the fate of the nation on the shoulders of their smart business suits. They waited for the lift, and waited. Some energetic youngsters apparently had got to work a little earlier and were busy shunting up and down among the higher floors.

The silence at the bottom of the shaft was impressive. None of the men looked at each other.

It seemed to be a most unwilling coalition. But ail the while, saccharine piped music wafted through the foyer, with a cloying insistence. * And still the lift did not : descend. It was when the background music shifted * to a Strauss waltz that one of the businessmen broke. He discarded all reasonable regard for the proprieties of Monday morning. He turned to the lady, made a formal bow. and I said: “Madam, would you care to dance?” At several offices upstairs a few minutes later, the typists thought their bosses must be on benders. Monday morning — and smiles? |