In he sauntered, rotund, grey, almost childishly curious – our very own catalyst for medium-scale economic redemption, none other than Mikhail Gorbachev.
It’s not often that an ex-world leader and profound influencer of the modern geopolitical map walks past your desk, through your cafeteria, past your shitty spewing photocopier, across your threadbare, stained office carpet. And when it happens, you had better spare a short thought for the lazy fools who have taken a sickie!
What a way to boost esteem, raise morale and add a bit of spark to the proceedings. New beginnings and all that.
And the results! Oh the energy, the pizazz, the chutzpah! You know what, it feels like an ex-world leader has just ambled through my open-plan desk labyrinth, the presidential static electricity zings off handles, the intern’s hair is all aruffle and the taps in the faux-marbled Kimberley Clarked loos only run bubbly.
So, pulling the Gorbachev card proved a momentary top trump, but failed to impress for more than 24 hours. What will it take, I wonder, for just a little bit of creative enthusiasm to grip?
