So there I was, trying to figure out exactly what I was supposed to do with over two thousand journal abbreviations (it’s a giddy, hedonistic life I lead), when HD came over to annoy talk about something that I have executive authority over (yay for power. Go me).
HD is a nice enough chap, but he does suffer from that peculiarly English affliction of looking at stuff on your screen, or reading things or your desk, or generally giving into the temptation of nosiness in a totally non-malicious but slightly—once you’ve noticed it—disturbing way that people have.
As we talked his gaze kept flicking over my shoulder. Not, as I initially thought, to the riveting Business Requirements Document displayed on my screen but rather out of the window behind me. This, I thought, was odd even for HD.
Finally, I gave in and turned around.
‘Um, sorry,’ HD said, ‘but I see why you chose this desk. There’s a woman getting undressed down there.’
And indeed, two floors down, in an office behind the building Dennis Publishing was a not unshapely figure in a sheer, silver undergarment. I desperately tried to refocus on HD, who, although not necessarily unpleasant to look at (in a certain light, at least), certainly posed no serious competition to what was going on behind and below me.
I tried, really I did. But after another thirty seconds of talking about stemming and wildcard searches my neck twisted inexorably around and I was rewarded with a vista of bra and panties.
It was pretty difficult to concentrate after that, so in the interests of propriety (although I’m not quite sure whose) we moved away from the window.
A slightly more edifying distraction occurred when I took my lunch break. Waiting at the lights on the corner of Cleveland and Howland, I saw a black car with a pole and camera arrangement on the top. Oh ho, I thought, it’s one of those so-called stealth parking council parking spy cars. But as it drew closer I could read the magic runes on the side.
I turned to the cove next to me and shared a manic grin. The car turned right, and we watched it go up past the Post Office BT tower.
Then I realized that I was grinning like an idiot with an iPhone in his hand.
‘Damn!’
I pelted up Cleveland Street, and nearly caught up with it, but it turned into Maple Street and appeared to be getting away. Then it slowed to turn into Cleveland Mews, and I managed to snap it:
Giggling to myself I continued on to Tottenham Court Road to meet my friend, half hoping the car might make a left, and then—no, because there’s the one-way system. Of course, it might turn around I suppose…
And there it was, stuck at the lights, and I twittered furiously.
I’m hoping that I’ll appear several times on Google Earth. Beverage of choice to the first person to spot me.
A) where are the pics of the semi-naked woman! Bloody geek.
2) don’t they use some face-blurring tech cos of complaints about privacy?
1) What kind of perv do you think I am?
B) That pint is looking pretty safe, then.
I’ll probably be captured on StreetView too, sitting on my bike at a red light and gawping in an “is that a Dalek?” kinda way.
Oh, and pedantry alert:
“a totally non-malicious but slightly—once you’ve noticed it—way that people have.”
Did you miss an adjective in front of “way”?
Shhhh. We weren’t going to mention that.
Huzzah! You have chanced upon the Holy Grail (twice if from a male perspective).
That’s not pedantry Cath, it’s editing. Thanks.
This is the view from my office. If I’m really lucky, I might see a muscular construction worker with their shirt off – they’ll look about ant-size from up here. (Just checked – not likely.)
Building site of new Uni Hamburg building on DESY campus – the half-round building in the background is the new PETRA III hall
Invest in a good pair of binoculars—or a telescope. You can always claim you’re trying to spot the ISS.
Thinks… Maybe we should have a ‘sexiest scientist’ competition at solo09? Or at least at the Fringe Unconference.
We get views of semi-naked women from the Nature orifice, too. The apartments opposite are quite frequently used as interiors in
porn moviestelevisual productions.Cool…google that is, not the semi naked women!
I’m always very dubious about the girls bathroom on our floor because it only has frosted glass on the bottom of the windows not the top half, which would be fine if we weren’t in 4 floor building opposite a large tower block!!
Yes, I can see (ha ha) the problem.
If anyone wants to come and see my half-naked body, they should apply through the usual channels.
I’ve seen it. It’s not much to write home about.
Henry, if you thought it was, I would be worried.
Goodness me, your life is like a scene from Experimental Heart. The window anecdote that is, not the Googlemobile part.
I was walking about today and was passed by nothing more unusual than a Ferrari and an E-type Jag. But I have no idea if this town is on the Google Street View radar, so to speak.
And I wonder how long it will be before some gang of toughs tip one of those snoopy Google cars over and destroy it?
P.S. Drat you, I’ve just
wastedinvested rather a lot of my lunch break scooting around Google Street View. Once you get your head around the interface, it’s very, very cool.I saw a bloke with a glass of wine in his hand, wearing shorts and chatting up a blonde woman, who might have been you, about where you were standing when you took the last photo (kitty-corner to that Abbey store).
Certainly sounds like me, doesn’t it?
“That’s not pedantry Cath, it’s editing.”
They’re different?
Screen reading is a disturbing habit, but I hadn’t noticed it being a British phenomenon!
“chatting up a blonde woman, who might have been you”
Heh.
Anyway, the Google car has been to Toronto a while back. I didn’t see it, but my Twitter feed was full of reports from
peoplegeeks who did.“Dr Wintle claimed he was quoted out of context. Police are looking into it.”
Indeed, Toronto is listed as one place they’ve been, but we’re not on the map per se.
Also, “Dr. Grant, in a statement to the press, denied (a) having been anywhere near the place, (b) having been to Sweden recently for elective surgery, and © knowing anything about anyone named Wintle.”
Bloody stupid auto-correcting markup language. Where’s this MT4 then?
Who are you?
Quite.
I came out of my house in a black metal band T-shirt, ratty straw cowboy hat, shorts that have seen better days and a bag of beers in an Argos bag. And there was the Google camera car, FTW.
Heh heh. I note you’re not telling us where to look for you!