The Programming Team

John is a neatnic. From his polished shoes to his close haircut John emits a neat, clean unencumbered focus.

He wears penny loafers that have such a high shine they reflect the upper part of his socks under his slacks. His pants are pressed in razor creases. His dark leather belt gets the same high polish as his shoes. His long sleeve Ralf Loran shirts are always buttoned at the sleeves and collar.

His rimless glasses frame his dark, seldom blinking eyes. Occasionally he'll remove them to rub his eyes and latch them back on again around his ears.

Each paper he generates gets a date stamp in blue ink and is pinned to one of his cubicle walls. His code is as pure as his clothes. His member variables all line up in columns and each page of code takes only a single screen height and includes lots of white space.

His desk top has edge-aligned books, no item dare drift out of place. He's ex-military.

When we come in from lunch he whips out his comb and scrapes it across the top of his head but all of the short hairs are already standing at attention.

When he walks, it's always with purpose, because he knows where he's headed.

When our boss discusses design with him, John thrusts each hand into it's pocket, cocks his thumbs outside, and rocks back on his heals. He has dug in for a fight.

But Robert is another story.

While John's every word is calculated, phrased and delivered with exactness, Robert's never is. He repeats his sentences often but changes tempo or volume to make you think you're hearing something different, but you never do.

He'll say: "I think I'll GO home." and then 30 seconds later he'll repeat "I THINK I'll go home." Throughout the day he uses the same sentences over and over again. I sometimes think he's forgotten he said them.

He wears T-shirts three sizes too small, revealing his midriff. Once in a while he'll yank it down but that only stretches the poor cloth already struggling to cover his girth.

Sometimes he'll lean over John's desk for a screen stare and again we're reminded of the lack of material covering his body. The T-shirt now creeps up his back to reveal six inches of skin and his jean shorts are cut off at the knees thus revealing far to much in an office setting.

He wears a fanny pack strapped around his large waist with his PDA swinging from its clip.

He's got a hardy laugh because he's 6'5" and 200lbs. So his voice booms and bounces against the small office walls in a sort of repulsive, irritating way.

An unlikely pair for our C++ team.

...dave
Of all the things I've lost, I miss my mind the most!