Having survived the trauma of the Evil Stationary Escalator Of Doom, it was time to find the hotel. I forget the name of the road it was on, but it was near the British Museum. My main problem with finding it was that the building numbers were 1) not in order, and 2) started again half way down the road. Thankfully, a specimen of that most hated of human sub-species (the Traffic Warden) helped me on my way and so I was only ten minutes late. And stressed.
After an hour of tedious Powerpointing, which I think I barely survived, the subject matter[ref]Software copyright, remember?[/ref] became more interesting and I started to actually enjoy it. Yeah, copyright law and business policy surrounding it, and the auditing of software licencing are exciting subjects. To me and my surprise, anyway.
Lunch was disappointing, consisting of undercooked beef and undercooked (and oversized) vegetable slices, and someone else swiped the last sticky toffee pudding. Afterwards, I nipped outside for some air, but returned after taking some photos of Boris Bikes and an angry taxi driver since London in the warm doesn’t actually have any air.
The afternoon session was interesting, despite being punctuated by the drip-drip-drip of a leaky aircon unit, which was apparently fixed over lunch. Assuming “fixing it” meant “making it drip faster”. The seminar finished with an exam, which, presuming I passed, means I’m an awesome illegal software dealer-wither, or something.
Now, it’s been a while since I’ve sat an exam. 13 years, probably. I don’t remember taking any since university, anyway. I wasn’t really looking forward to it as I really wanted to pass and not look an idiot. I need not have worried. You see, despite not yet having the results, I’d like to publicly announce that yes, I’m pretty sure I have. It was the Easiest Exam Ever.
Example (paraphrased) question:
When you have collected together all of your software media and licences, what is the next step? (Tick 1):
- Begin an audit
- Inform the staff
- Buy a new coffee machine
No, really. Of the 30 questions, about 20 of them were this level of difficulty. And, as well as that, the answers to almost all of them were in the booklet we were given for the course, which was a collection of all the Powerpoint slides. A booklet that we were not only told we could look at during the exam, but encouraged to do so.
It wasn’t an exam. It was a stupidity test. Phew!
With that done, I left and set off back to Liverpool Street. On the way back to Holborn station, I noticed that London is full of hipsters. Every bar and cafe terrace was full of people with glued down fringes, wearing 1980s NHS glasses (mostly without correction lenses, I expect), cardigans (even though it was 98127854 degrees), cargo trousers that aren’t long enough, and flip flops. And these people were drinking bottled water. In a bar. London is mad.
The escalator back down into Hell was much easier to deal with (it moved, which helped), so although I hated it I coped without crying. The tube train was rammed again, despite the other lines them being open again, but I did see a black Danny DeVito in my carriage, so it was worth it. I also noticed that all the pretty London people were above ground, while all the trolls crammed into the caves below. It was just like Wells’ description of the far future in The Time Machine, actually.
Thankfully, my train home was caught (and I got my reserved seat this time) without incident, and I arrived home safe and tired late that evening. I hate London.
