Enero 29, 2004
Negociaciones
Sigo jodido -pero bien- de la tripa. Pero eso no le importa nada a la Vida, que sigue funcionando a su ritmo como si yo no tuviese ninguna importancia en ella. En ese momento me doy cuenta de que en el gran engranaje perfectamente engrasado que es la Vida, efectivamente, yo no cuento demasiado y que si yo no estoy ahí para ocuparme de algo, ya habrá alguien al que no le duela la tripa, que esté dispuesto a hacer mi trabajo. No es una visión especialmente pesimista de la vida. De hecho no es la visión más pesimista que he tenido yo mismo de la Vida. Simplemente me ha dado hoy por pensar que todos somos prescindibles en un momento dado.
Divago. Es lo que tiene estar jodido.
Decíamos que jodido como estoy, y vestido especialmente mal -como no pensaba entrevistarme con nadie hoy me he venido de sport al despacho- he tenido que acudir al despacho de un compañero de profesión para negociar un contrato de consultoría para un cliente. Uno de esos despachos que impresionan nada más entrar, con muebles S XVIII de palo de rosa y una secretaría atenta a tus movimientos que sirve Solán de Cabras en copas de cristal. Ya encerrados en el despacho del abogado -Precioso ático acristalado que da al Paseo de Prado- hemos dialogado, negociado, discutido, conferenciado, perdido los nervios, gritado, -casi- insultado y amenazado con retirarnos de la negociación mientras pensaba para mi mismo que no estaba quedando como un payaso mientras forzaba -un poco más- las condiciones del contrato; si no como un tipo duro y curtido, la imagen que se suponía tenía que dar, a pesar del jersey y la camisa gris.
Y entre pinchazos en las tripas y cláusulas en las que ninguno de los dos estaba dispuesto a claudicar hemos estado casi hora y media negociando, hasta que al final hemos llegado a acuerdos en los puntos más importantes del contrato y quedado para limar por teléfono las diferencias que queden la próxima semana.
Y mientras que unos se iban a comer a "La Maquina", estupendo restaurante asturiano, al final, para mi siempre quedan los bares de los de toda la vida.
-Jefe, Una manzanilla, por favor.
Si, ya he dicho que divagaba.
Posted by Towsend at Enero 29, 2004 05:25 PMSolán de cabras... que indignos...
Posted by: Germán on Enero 29, 2004 05:30 PM¿Indignos?
Posted by: Towsend on Enero 29, 2004 05:34 PMDe Sanlucar?
Posted by: xabe on Enero 29, 2004 05:37 PMMe referia a la manzanilla, miarma. Cuidate!
Posted by: xabe on Enero 29, 2004 05:49 PMMejórate.
Posted by: EarthQuake on Enero 30, 2004 12:51 AMNo sé por qué, te he imaginado como De Niro en el Cabo del Miedo...
-¡Abogado! ¡A-bo-ga-do!
Ah, Cuenca...
Posted by: Adrián on Enero 30, 2004 11:44 AMJoder Adrián: Si no fuera porque eres el cuarto que me hace el mismo chiste esta semana, me lo tomaría a cachondeo. Pero el tema empieza a ser siniestro.
Posted by: Towsend on Enero 30, 2004 12:02 PMJuer, pero no odiabas la manzanilla?
vENga, a partir de hoy postearé más a menudo, :)
Posted by: Entrari on Enero 30, 2004 03:05 PMY la odio; pero es lo único que me quita los dolores de tripa.
Posted by: Towsend on Enero 30, 2004 05:31 PMPrueba una mezcla de hierba luisa, con melisa, van muy bien para las rarezas del estomago.
Posted by: Ghanima on Enero 31, 2004 12:03 AMPrueba a coca cola con azucar bien batida, dicen que tambien quta el dolor de tripa y las nauseas y eso.
Mejorate pronto^^
Posted by: Isilwen on Enero 31, 2004 03:03 AMBienvenido al club de los problemas gastrointestinales :/
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