the corner office

Walking to the station one night, a bloke alongside me on his mobile:

They're all too quick to get on the email. You, you're like me. We'd get on the phone and speak about it ... but not them. And its all of them ... they're all on the email. That's why it's going tits-up.

On a bus:

I fink he's just having a pity party, really. I mean... my nan's in hospital, your dad's dying, and he's upset 'cause I told him his behaviour is unacceptable.