I went up to see Mr. Bigdeal in his office. He told his secretary to hold all calls, but that must have been just for show - he might as well have said "hold all calls not for me."
He has a nice office and all, wears good shoes, but I can't help thinking there's something a little off here - he's got some celebrity pictures on the wall that remind me of the corner pizza joint with a signed picture of Al Pacino or whoever who has never been anywhere near the place. I wondered if any of those people on his wall would recognize him.
He rambled on and on about the "coming revolution" and how we were part of it, we're in this together, let's see where it takes us. Then he started pumping me for my ideas about the internet and so on. I started to get the feeling that now we're getting to the point - he doesn't have a clue and needs someone to show him the way.
Anyway, just as I was about to leave, he asked me to do him a
favor. He was taking a back-up laptop to Cannes and would I bring it
for him as he's got too much carry-on as it is. I said OK and
wondered if I could resist the temptation to snoop the files on it.
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