I see a lot of pipes these days. Pipes and my fair share of teapots. The teapots are always random, but the pipes are not necessarily so. While some pipes lead somewhere, others just twist around each other, and then break up into squares and disappear.
And the noise. Always a rattling noise. I would put my earplugs in, but they're tied to my hard-hat, so I'd have to wear the hat indoors, which would look silly. I suppose I could leave the hard-hat on the desk, with the string from the earplugs stretching up to my ears, but that would be worse.
I get up from the desk to escape the rattle and the randomised pipes on the monitor to go outside where the other pipes of the gold-plant can afflict me. I have to wear my hard-hat now in any case. At least the rattle of the faulty PC fan is no more – replaced by the drone of heavy machinery.
Still pipes and noise, but no teapots. I long for the surprise of the teapot amongst the pipes, but surprises are not so fantastical on a gold-plant. Perhaps the security officers have some teapots. They do have metal detectors – so why not teapots?
I make my way along the path to the security check-point. No teapots yet, but i keep my spirits up
I press the buzzer and look balefully up at the security camera. I imagine the security guards looking down at me from their CCTV monitors, my body elongated out of proportion. A curious side-effect of the corner mounted camera lens. But perhaps they don't see me. Perhaps they are also hoping for a teapot to appear on the screen.