It's well known that people who work with computers spend their time in weird places. These are the weird places where I and my colleagues spend our working days.

Scene one: interior, day. We are in a generic open-plan office with lots of glass and lifts. On a good day, the views are spectacular. My desk is in the middle. In American cube parlance, we have a prairie-dog set-up and I rate nine feet of an L-shaped area. There's a picture of my study on the "pockets" page: it is left to the able reader to infer what my desk area looks like. The firm has a "clear desk" policy but that doesn't apply to hardware or manuals and it's amazing what can be classed as a manual if you try hard. Due to various space constraints, both the old and new transition servers are under the desk as well, and we're often in the position where Claire or David needs to share the desk. In a culture where touching is tantamount to an office affair, this can get interesting at times. Confidential briefings are carried out in soundproofed glass areas, presumably so that bullying and other abuse won't go un-noticed. An admirable idea, but the things are colloquially known as "goldfish bowls" and we much prefer...

Scene two: interior, day. "Bar None". Readers of Matt Beaumont's excellent "E" will instantly recognise "Bar Zero" and I hope that in return for a plug he'll forgive the plagiarism, which is after all completely in the spirit of Miller-Shanks. I'm assuming that his was based on "Point 101". Ours is a wonderful food and basic drinks bar, with the added advantage of not needing to get wet on rainy days in order to be there. Without us and a couple of other large local outfits they'd probably go bust. They do a fine line in cappuccino, know what everyone drinks, and there's excellent sit-down food and bar snacks. I once quipped that the place should be our next acquisition. Frighteningly they offered me a monthly account. I declined. If word got around, I'd be broke in a week. From Bar None, back to...

Scene three: interior, night. The new media group den. Some specialist design agencies have Astroturf flooring or pool tables. Perhaps one day, but "new media"'s den isn't like that yet. They do, however, have their own music and shiny machines that aren't built of scavenged bits and pieces. I spend a lot of time down there. Earnest thinks it's liaison, but mostly I'm just hiding and rubbernecking, admiring their design work. It's down one floor and right across the building from scene one, which is one reason why my desk phone diverts to the mobile. They also tend to work late, and they're far better company than sitting at my desk after everyone's gone. Then later, we go to...

Scene four: Interior, night. "The Vaults" will stand for several pubs in the area. It could be any of them, because almost without exception they're designer "spit and sawdust" with special wall panels made of designer bricks and tiffany-style stained glass partitions. They have specially aged floorboards that were installed last year. The ceilings are Anaglypta wallpaper painted with magnolia and brown scumble-work. The senior management don't go to places like this, so we feel safe there. Several in the area have tables that look like upturned barrels, but let's suppose that The Vaults has ordinary bar-stools. It serves bottled beers and fizzy lager and the white wine is abominable. One saving grace is that the chilli is so hot you can't taste the drinks anyway. The other vital fact is that it has mobile coverage. The good thing about having a mobile is that yopu don't have to stay in the office - and believe me that awful though the decor here is, it's way better than the office. The bad thing about having a mobile is that the office comes to you instead.

So, lets assume that we're in The Vaults now, letting off steam after the week of "the corporate merger".