Ram: Unusual northwest customs
Yes, it is true that we have moved to a new office space in the wilderness of a place called Issaquah, Washington. I shall miss our accommodations in Bellevue, although the unfortunate incident with the imaginary Turkish prison remains a low point in my memory of that otherwise fine city.
Here in Issaquah, I have noticed a strange phenomenon in which the corporate overseers seem to have been inflicted with a sort of madness. Outside the office runs a babbling brook known as Issaquah Creek, which is quite famous in these parts for its prodigious runs of salmon. Even though we have just set up shop, I have witnessed on several occasions that the CEO and President will suddenly bolt out of their offices wearing hip-waders and carrying large nets, apparently with the purpose of catching fish. I have also noticed that at present there are no fish in the creek, just corporate leaders. I have seen several dozen of these rugged executives standing out there in the frigid waters casting their eyes and lines downstream. I find this disturbing. But perhaps it is just some sort of local ritual such as the golden monkey dance back home.


