Those of you who have seen The Devil Wears Prada, will probably remember the office scene that precedes Meryl Streep’s first entrance. Dozens of workers going about a normal day, until suddenly someone calls out that “she” is coming, and all of a sudden there is a frenzy of activity: books are tucked into drawers, flat shoes are hastily swapped out for suitably high heels, lipstick is refreshed, hair that’s previously been pinned back is pulled loose to be artistically tumbled around shoulders.
The boss is on deck.
That is what the office feels like in the run up before our uber-boss (and his entourage) joins us tomorrow in Ashdod, to sail with us for ten full days until – I think – we reach Europe. At least that’s what the dates that the HD sent out imply.
Now, we hold ourselves to a very high standard on the flagship – heck, we hold ourselves to an equally high standard anywhere on the fleet – but even for us, when the big boss comes to town, we tighten our belts. Digging into the back of make-up cases for seldom used dove-grey eyeshadow, finding that last pair of nylons that doesn’t have a single mark on them, tearing the plastic off of brand new uniforms. I finished the bulk of my massive re-labelling project in the library this morning, so everything should be in place should any suits happen to walk through here (though I doubt they will, they never have in the past), and even my desk drawers are freshly organized.
About the only time I might set eyes on the CEO is if he or one of the others come in for their morning coffee, but it never ever hurts to be prepared..
Spit spot…best foot forward and all that….
Y’know, just like usual!