"It's beautiful but it's not gay," I wrote recently about the "headquarters" of my company where I was honored to repatriate myself without my knowledge .
To speak the truth, it is Versailles: there is vermin under the powdered wigs.
I pass on the courtiers of modern times, piled in open space but delighted to go to wish his birthday to the Sun King.
For today Wigsen, I thought rather to speak to you of "places of ease". If the corridors are dotted with well-dressed people (ladies preferably dressed short and perched on high heels), however the splendid red and gray toilet resemble, in terms of cleanliness, toilets of highway areas.
I was wondering the first few days why there were housekeepers all day and not just in the evening as I used to. I suppose now that it is because these cuddled creatures are only terrible mimi-cracra, the glasses are often starred with drops of pee ... However, my colleague assures me that the situation is not Hardly more shining among the gentlemen.
But the cherry on this infamous cake, it is the sentence that I seized the robbery despite myself last week. The door to my open space was open. Our nearest neighbors are General Services. So I heard a corridor conversation: a whisper of one of the housekeepers who made me listen. Then the very clear answer from the person in charge of the services in question: "but finally Samia, the next time you find a dirty slip malaysian full lace wigs, you put it in the trash and that's it!" I thought I had misunderstood. But, poor Samia no doubt returned to her work, I heard the manager add for her alone but aloud a "no but I hallucinate, I ha-llu-cine" that left no room for doubt.
At the very chic headquarters of my wonderful company, some "forget" their dirty underpants ... Vermin under the powdered wigs, I tell you.