Thankfully ever since the voicemail incident back in India, I had become much better at dealing with such crisis and public humiliation. Immediately I apologized to the class for the incident and told them that mistakes happened to everybody and I was only human. Instead of prolonging the humiliation I told them to read up about corporate strategy on Wikipedia and left the room.

Outside I saw the HR lady waiting for me looking thoroughly thrilled. She congratulated me, shook my hands and told me that the interns had never laughed so loudly during anyone else’s presentation.

I told her that it was a gift and not everybody had the ability to energize a classroom with so much passion and good humour. Immediately the noise of laughter came out of the classroom again.

My microphone was still FUCKING FUCKING FUCKING clipped on. WHAT THE HECK IS WRONG WITH THIS MICROPHONE! THIS IS LIKE HIV!

I ran out of the office, stuffed it in my bag and came back to the hotel. The microphone now sits on the table as a reminder of some of my human weaknesses.

I had a soup from the café downstairs for dinner. Need to give my stomach a rest.

Fucking awful couple of days.

I still need to tell you what happened with the wax statue. Tomorrow. Can’t focus on so much humiliation in one night.

9.20 p.m.

Maybe there is a positive outcome. Now that she has seen my worst, maybe that Chinese intern may be worth interacting with. Things can only improve from here.

Platonic interactions only please.

I love Gouri.

20 March 2007

2.14 p.m.

Did nothing in office today. Nothing. Not one thing. So I ended up having lunch two times.

First I had a club sandwich alone at my desk while trying to create that Wikipedia page for myself. (Taking so long. Second week now.)

I had the second one because I saw the Chinese intern go to the seventh floor canteen. I followed her, in order to spontaneously walk by her table, and then offer to give her some company. So I rushed downstairs, mentally compiling some interesting India–China facts to chat about, and then stood in line at the counter.

But by the time I reached some uncultured fellows from IT came as a group and lined up in front of us. (Why are we even allowing such cost-centre members of the staff to eat from the canteen? Systemic inefficiencies everywhere in Lederman! Do I have to tell them every small optimization opportunity? Tired.)

So I lost a chance to make casual conversation with her in the line.

In order to show the Chinese Pudding (temporary placeholder name) how eclectic I really am, I avoided all the Indian dishes and instead picked up some humus, an Italian anchovies salad, some Irish stew and a mini sushi platter. (Four countries! On one plate. Genius.)