In 2012 (probably) I worked as a video editor in Hackney. Our office was next to an adorable little river which you could see from the window. The river was adorned with quirky retro cafes, constantly had men in thin jeans riding fixed gear bikes along its banks, and famously floated the detached head of a murdered ex-EastEnders cast member. Truly a London delight.
My most prominent memory from this specific foray into employment has nothing to do with the job or location, but my workmates. Which is a term they would never use. These people were like the cast of Silicon Valley without the intentional comedy. By this I mean it was probably the most comedic six months of my life, but all my laughter had to be stifled.
As this was a tech start up there were only eight of us in the office, which also meant that everyone other than myself was a tech whiz. The most tech whizziest of all my co-workers exhibited only two prominent characteristics to his personality. The first characteristic was a very militant arguing style when discussing the inevitability of technological singularity. And the second… well, the second was a need to always have four single-serving cartons of Ribena on his desk at any time. If anyone asked for one of his Ribenas, he would pointedly refuse to relinquish the grape. “BUY YOUR OWN RIBENA, THERE IS A SHOP DOWN THE RIVER!” he would say, nasally. It became a daily ritual for the others to try and obtain the mythical juice. No one ever succeeded.
Also, I once accidentally deleted everything on my computer and sat under my desk for twenty minutes.