I have known him without knowing him for a long time; about five years, actually.
The perfect employee.
Twice a week I go to my acupuncturist friend and we do Tai Chi together in the morning from 8.
30 to 9.
30.
It is quite wonderful.
Occasionally a third person joins us, but usually there is just the two of us in his herbal shop.
As we do the Tai Chi we move down the length of the floor space and then return up.
And there I am facing out from his shop window, looking across the busy commercial road, at a small public library; that is where I have seen the perfect employee.
We often talk about him, Dr John, and I.
He's very predictable, the perfect employee.
Invariably he's there at the same time on those two occasions, at about 9.
00, midway through our session.
We hear him in the distance.
He has had to park some 50 metres away from the building and he has a mobile crate that is full of books, CDs, DVD returns that he is replacing in its library of origin; and having deposited them, he also collects those items returned to this library but originating elsewhere in the borough.
Very useful work.
He is keeping order in the flow of placements that he makes.
We think he has had, in the five years we have observed him, never observed us.
Dr John's shop is across the way and the large transparent window has loads of poster adverts which would obscure a view into the shop - but not out.
He must be about 60 years old.
We admire his tenacity, his regularity, and we look forward to the sound of his crate rolling towards us - or rather towards the library on the other side of the road, and we often stop and comment.
Usually the comment is along the lines that all is well with the world - we may have corrupt bankers, incompetent politicians and all the rest - but here is a man, faithfully doing his job, and carrying on when all else is madness.
I am reminded of Pascal's observation about all humanity's problems stemming from his inability to sit quietly alone in a room, and feel moved to add to go quietly about his business, without fuss, without ostentation, and with a singular focus.
Dr John and I congratulated ourselves: we had indeed found - spotted - the perfect employee, hadn't we? At least we thought so, till a week ago, when it happened: the event that changed everything.
About 15 minutes before the perfect employee was scheduled to appear an international logistics deliverer's van appeared with a large package to deposit.
The driver went up to the front door of the library - parking directly outside and blocking traffic - knocked and failed to spot the sign saying the library didn't open for another hour.
The perfect employee had his own key.
After looking agitated a while, the driver made a momentous decision: he just deposited - dumped - his parcel directly by the library door and drove off.
This seemed risky to us; it's not a great area; but then again, from a distance the package, quite large, only looked as it were paper towels for washrooms - but a lot of them.
Then he came, the perfect employee.
We were so relieved - we felt uncomfortable with the parcel out there, exposed to the elements and whatever else.
But then the strangest thing happened.
He never swerved and I am not sure his eye even stooped to see the package, un-missable as it was.
He opened the door, did his regular thing, came out, locked the door, and went off.
And the paper towels stayed where they were.
I looked at Dr John - he looked at me - Dr John is Chinese.
"I am sorry, Dr John, I said - he's a British worker; that's not in his job specification".
Dr John nodded - he understood.
There was no perfect employee in England.
The perfect employee.
Twice a week I go to my acupuncturist friend and we do Tai Chi together in the morning from 8.
30 to 9.
30.
It is quite wonderful.
Occasionally a third person joins us, but usually there is just the two of us in his herbal shop.
As we do the Tai Chi we move down the length of the floor space and then return up.
And there I am facing out from his shop window, looking across the busy commercial road, at a small public library; that is where I have seen the perfect employee.
We often talk about him, Dr John, and I.
He's very predictable, the perfect employee.
Invariably he's there at the same time on those two occasions, at about 9.
00, midway through our session.
We hear him in the distance.
He has had to park some 50 metres away from the building and he has a mobile crate that is full of books, CDs, DVD returns that he is replacing in its library of origin; and having deposited them, he also collects those items returned to this library but originating elsewhere in the borough.
Very useful work.
He is keeping order in the flow of placements that he makes.
We think he has had, in the five years we have observed him, never observed us.
Dr John's shop is across the way and the large transparent window has loads of poster adverts which would obscure a view into the shop - but not out.
He must be about 60 years old.
We admire his tenacity, his regularity, and we look forward to the sound of his crate rolling towards us - or rather towards the library on the other side of the road, and we often stop and comment.
Usually the comment is along the lines that all is well with the world - we may have corrupt bankers, incompetent politicians and all the rest - but here is a man, faithfully doing his job, and carrying on when all else is madness.
I am reminded of Pascal's observation about all humanity's problems stemming from his inability to sit quietly alone in a room, and feel moved to add to go quietly about his business, without fuss, without ostentation, and with a singular focus.
Dr John and I congratulated ourselves: we had indeed found - spotted - the perfect employee, hadn't we? At least we thought so, till a week ago, when it happened: the event that changed everything.
About 15 minutes before the perfect employee was scheduled to appear an international logistics deliverer's van appeared with a large package to deposit.
The driver went up to the front door of the library - parking directly outside and blocking traffic - knocked and failed to spot the sign saying the library didn't open for another hour.
The perfect employee had his own key.
After looking agitated a while, the driver made a momentous decision: he just deposited - dumped - his parcel directly by the library door and drove off.
This seemed risky to us; it's not a great area; but then again, from a distance the package, quite large, only looked as it were paper towels for washrooms - but a lot of them.
Then he came, the perfect employee.
We were so relieved - we felt uncomfortable with the parcel out there, exposed to the elements and whatever else.
But then the strangest thing happened.
He never swerved and I am not sure his eye even stooped to see the package, un-missable as it was.
He opened the door, did his regular thing, came out, locked the door, and went off.
And the paper towels stayed where they were.
I looked at Dr John - he looked at me - Dr John is Chinese.
"I am sorry, Dr John, I said - he's a British worker; that's not in his job specification".
Dr John nodded - he understood.
There was no perfect employee in England.