Oh. My. Gawd.
I have this conference call today, so I needed a room with some high speed internet. There are all kinds of offices you can rent for the day, week, month here in New York, so I pulled up a map. Turns out there’s one right beside the marina called WorkSocial. Perfect. I book a room.
I walk into the building today, and there’s a massive, gargantuan, epic video screen behind the receptionist. On the screen is my boat. I mean, that’s about all that’s on the screen. The deck of my boat. Where I lie on the trampolines at night with a glass of wine. Where I watch the sun set from the upper deck. Where I lay out nude, because you really can’t see the upper deck from anywhere in the marina…
…but you get a real damn nice view if you walk into the lobby of this 16 story office building.
“Uh, does that camera change?” I ask. I’m assuming it flips through other cameras in the area. The lady behind the desk looks over her shoulder.
She shakes her head.
“Does it move?” I ask.
“No,” she says, then looks suspicious. “Why?”
“That’s my home,” I say. I point. I’m still processing.
The lady looks at me again. Hesitates. “Were you washing your boat this morning?”
I nod. I was. In my usual attire.
The rest of the conversation got awkward from there. And I made a note of how to adjust the boom so I could continue to lay out without being NSFW in a workplace. I also thought the view was a bit blurry, and maybe someone should go out and clean the lens.
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