Another day at the orifice

So he calls round to my office at 8:45am and says,

"Hey Snotty. I don't think we should go down to the canteen for a coffee too early."

I'm not sure what he means, but I have a suspicion. So I look quizzically, saying nothing.

"I don't want the plant manager to see us there early and think we're not doing any work. So lets go down at 9:15."

Its time for me to speak.

"I can't believe you're afraid of these people. You think that taking an early break makes you look bad? What if you had an important meeting at 9 o'clock and were getting a coffee in first? What if you were just so damned efficient that you were on top of the day's tasks already and could afford a little kick back? What if you wanted to take your break when the canteen wasn't knee deep in sycophants like yourself? What if you had a little bit of self respect and realised that all that matters is that you get the fucking job done and that you might as well suit yourself while you're at it so that the whole miserable experience will be just a fraction more bearable?"

So I didn't say the last two sentences, but he knew they were in me.