Harry
I'd like to take a moment to tell you about a new colleague I met this week. I met several, actually, but one stands out in particular. His name is Harry, and he is Dutch. The Dutch guys were not here last week at all, but all 3 are here now - Harry, Bart, and Frans.
Bart and Frans showed up Monday morning, in fact, fresh off the plane from Amsterdam. Harry was supposed to be traveling with them, but he missed the plane. They told me he would be arriving later in the day, maybe 3pm, because he was going to catch a later flight.
I didn't meet Harry until 7pm on Monday while we were all sitting at a bar and having a drink. He called Frans' cell phone trying to figure out which bar we had choosen and he finally found us. Harry is 62, always has a smile on his face, and he has a generally bewildered look about him most times. He always has two pair of glasses (one for reading, one for sun) hanging around his neck, and I have never seen him wear either one.
When Harry missed the plane, he thought maybe he would just drive to Clermont-Ferrand. His Benz is in the shop so he asked his wife if he could take her car for the week. She said no, so he rented a "Smart" car. This is one of these super tiny (even by European standards) things that are designed for city dwellers. It took Harry 7 hours to drive it to Clermont-Ferrand. It would normally be a 4 hour trip, but as he put it "the whole of the Netherlands was moving their cattle across the roads today and I took a wrong turn in Paris."
The "Smart" has no air-conditioning, and no cruise control, so Harry was a bit worse for the wear when he arrived at the bar. His Dutch colleagues were making fun of him before he sat down, and asking "what the hell happened?," to which Harry replied "I refuse to submit to an interview until at least my 2nd beer."
He then spent the next hour explaining to us how there was a perfectly logical explanation for everything that happened to him during the day, and all the decisions he had made. Harry has the gift of the gab, and by the time he was finished telling the extended version of his travel story, I was convinced.
Bart and Frans showed up Monday morning, in fact, fresh off the plane from Amsterdam. Harry was supposed to be traveling with them, but he missed the plane. They told me he would be arriving later in the day, maybe 3pm, because he was going to catch a later flight.
I didn't meet Harry until 7pm on Monday while we were all sitting at a bar and having a drink. He called Frans' cell phone trying to figure out which bar we had choosen and he finally found us. Harry is 62, always has a smile on his face, and he has a generally bewildered look about him most times. He always has two pair of glasses (one for reading, one for sun) hanging around his neck, and I have never seen him wear either one.
When Harry missed the plane, he thought maybe he would just drive to Clermont-Ferrand. His Benz is in the shop so he asked his wife if he could take her car for the week. She said no, so he rented a "Smart" car. This is one of these super tiny (even by European standards) things that are designed for city dwellers. It took Harry 7 hours to drive it to Clermont-Ferrand. It would normally be a 4 hour trip, but as he put it "the whole of the Netherlands was moving their cattle across the roads today and I took a wrong turn in Paris."
The "Smart" has no air-conditioning, and no cruise control, so Harry was a bit worse for the wear when he arrived at the bar. His Dutch colleagues were making fun of him before he sat down, and asking "what the hell happened?," to which Harry replied "I refuse to submit to an interview until at least my 2nd beer."
He then spent the next hour explaining to us how there was a perfectly logical explanation for everything that happened to him during the day, and all the decisions he had made. Harry has the gift of the gab, and by the time he was finished telling the extended version of his travel story, I was convinced.
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