Touch

Lately there's been a lot of blog fodder within my office. Today the VP of the company is doing interviews for a (god know's what) new position. I overheard this conversation today whilst walking (ok, I stopped walking! Alright! Yes, I eavesdropped and was busy 'rearranging' the flowers) through the corridor:

VP: Stretching his hands up in the air over head and sighing, "Ah, yep. Got a new personal trainer now. So sore I can barely bend over."

Interviewee: Chuckles nervously, "Oh really?"

VP: "Yeah, I need to get back into shape, y'know? I can't even touch my toes! Can you? Can you touch your toes for me?" Said super-casually.

Interviewee: "Er, um...ok." I peeked quickly around the corner whilst moving a rose and saw the guy looking side to side to make sure no one would see him. If I'm not mistaken there were little beads of sweat popping up on his forehead.

Interviewee reaches down and tries to touch his toes but he couldn't do it.

VP: "Arms are too short, eh?" He nodded with his finger on his chin, "Yeah, I can't do it either."

Interviewee straightened up and VP swung a 'friendly' arm around his shoulders. They entered the hallway so I quickly dropped my flowers and went in the opposite direction but not before I heard VP say quietly, "You should come to the gym with me sometime."

He's got the job, I reckon.