Vaguely disappointing return to work on Friday. Not because it was hard on the back of a thirteen hour flight which, for all its Business Class glamour, saw me in the seat next to the kitchen (which is always both noisy and smelly), but because the much anticipated fight with Travesty Of All Things Gay never happened.
I think he is, to use a cliche, a bully: when stood up to (perhaps, particularly by someone of Irish extraction who is 6′5′) he backs down and retreats into a world of strong agreement with everything that one says. This meant that during the creative review for Monday’s meeting, he was full of “I totally love your idea”, “I absolutely agree with that” and “I love your PR idea - I think that’s genius”.
I have no doubt that the opportunity will arise again, as he seems to exhibit all the emotional stability of Amy Winehouse crossed with Liza Minnelli, but there was all the frustration of coitus interruptus, within the initial fun…
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