I walk the line

It's time to introduce a new character into this blog, in the form of a man who shall henceforth be known as Moody Bastard. MB is a short, belligerent individual who dresses primarily in black and idolises Johnny Cash. He's had a somewhat checkered career, impeded by an inability to get along with some key people (eg. big, important clients). He sees himself as an uncompromising rebel. Others see him as a stroppy twat.

I now work quite closely with him. He is very passionate about his job and puts in a great deal of effort. That is, when he's not whinging, sulking or generally being obstreperous. Usually we rub along quite well, but occasionally I yearn for him to shut his moaning trap. Today, for instance.

The day was off to a bad start when I woke up in agony, having apparently slept most of the night with my legs crossed in some kind of circulation-squeezing tangle. The pain has still not abated. Towards 5pm on this day of agony occurred a mini-crisis concerning advertising space which was discovered to have been booked, and now had to urgently be filled with something.

We decided to call the animation company working on the TV campaign for the client, to see if they could supply us with a 3D rendering from the TV ad to use in print. MB was very much against this plan, as he did not want to make them 'panic' and interrupt the TV work they were doing. Patiently we explained that it would be a tentative enquiry, and we would not press them if they couldn't manage it. MB stridently complained over and over that 'nobody was listening to him' (ie: nobody was obeying his orders). He then buggered off home, leaving us to toil.