As the bus jostles me along, a loudspeaker overhead declares “Lake Street. Stop requested.”
On the train, the softer, more nuanced speaker exclaims “Entering Kendall/MIT,” as we pull into Davis Square. Underway again, I hear “Next stop, Kendall/MIT.” A few minutes later, the train again proudly pronounces “Entering Kendall/MIT,” as we approach Porter Square. Likewise at Harvard Square and at Central. Finally, the announcement changes to “Entering Charles/MGH,” as we pull into Kendall.
After a short walk to my building, I enter through the garage. The parking machine greets me warmly: “Please pay here before returning to your vehicle.”
The elevator also has a few choice words. “Second floor … third floor … fourth floor.”
After a few phone calls (“Your call is important. Please wait for the next available operator.”) … I finally reach the goal. “We’re sorry. No one is available to take your call right now. Please leave your name and number and we’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”
Time for coffee. The espresso machine mutely demands decalcifying, so I resort to the single cup brewer which, after a series of snorting and burping noises, produces a hot black liquid.
I return to my station to attend to the 47 new emails, 23 chat messages and 5 appeals for me to download and install software updates and restart my system.
A co-worker stops by and mutters something about my weekend.