Just today I ran into a gaggle of accountants. I find this most peculiar, because it happened in broad daylight. The folks who crunch the numbers aren’t usually known to bask about freely in the noonday sun. Anyway, they came out of this hotel in droves, all very chatty, frissons of giddiness bouncing off them as they invaded my path.
There was jolly Samuel, who was babbling about how the presentations added up so well. There was talk of some great management of cash flow, very tight cost accounting, ledgers and balances and debits dancing merrily.
Melanie, tottering a little on her obviously spanking-new high heels, nodded her little head vigorously in tacit agreement, approving at how accurately the numbers reflected the data analysis.
There was grim Jim, the sole doomsayer, with his brow knitted together, muttering, ‘There was not enough time…not enough time…’
And there was chunky, sweaty little Mars, who was off on a planet of his own, seeing as he was interested only in, ‘Where are we going to go for lunch?’
How did I come to conclude that they were accountants? I mean, aside from the talk, obviously. There
was a banner right outside their hotel, hawking an Accounting seminar. And how
did I come to know their names? Well, they all had bright yellow sticker nametags on, for crying out loud.