In the first of an exclusive series which takes a wry look at the business world, the apparently corrupted principles of Head Office come in for the chop.
Located an uncomfortable 10 minutes’ walk in the rain, snow or scorching summer sun from any tube station or bus stop, the group headquarters are nevertheless a effortless 15 minute lounge for the chairman being ferried in the company limo, from his weekday apartment in the Barbican.
Designed by a big-name architect and executed in glass and steel, the costs were termed as “an investment” in the Directors’ report. This thing to remember is that nothing is actually produced in Head Office.
Although the business’s production base is in the provinces, the Board unanimously agreed the necessity of having a presence in the City to be near to their bankers and lawyers. The internet, Skype VoiP and the global village are clearly concepts that have slipped right by them.
It does, of course, mean that there are parking spaces for those weekend jaunts in to town for the executives and their families, and a tolerably good view of the Lord Mayor’s parade.
By our mystery satirist, OGWO
Illustration by Matthew F.
