Looks always deceive.

I love surprises. Good surprises, mind, I don't for example relish the moment when I come home to find a tiger has ravaged my house. No, I love good surprises, that feeling of thinking something is simply not going to work despite assurances then, lo and behold, it all goes according to plan. Imagine how amazed the observers of the Wright Brothers' first flight must've been when it all worked. I mean to those who don't understand the physics of flight, it is an utterly preposterous suggestion that a structure made of wood and canvas would actually fly? What, like a bird? Nonsense!

But it did, and that must've been like watching someone say they'll walk through the Empire State Building, on fire, then actually doing it.


Now, I know how planes fly, so today's surprises are a little more basic. I was looking out my window this morning and a, shall we say, "ample" lady was unlocking her car. It was a Mini, and not one of those new lovely BMW jobs, but an old-school teeny tiny Mini that a tall person might mistake for a shoe. Or a trip hazard. I thought that she would simply never get in there with all the heaving in the world, but to my surprise, she squeezed her frame in and off she went.

And this is the thing with people; looks always decieve. Anyone remember when Heinz brought out green and purple Ketchup? I tried it, and I know deep down (and with my eyes closed) that it tasted like Ketchup, but looking at it... no. It was just all wrong. It should be rich red, not mould green or radioactive purple! Silly Heinz. You'll not be surprised to learn that it was pulled sharpish. Now, we learn about a new purple potato (http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-scotland-11477327), that has up to 10 times the anti-oxidant levels of the ordinary spud. Super-duper healthy, it is. Surely this will sell by the bagload as bright people will overlook the relatively tiny factor of the unusual colour, right? WRONG! People will subconsciously assume that it is off, or unhealthy, and will avoid it. I suspect this will be a bit of a flop, personally. Not that it will stop me giving them a try, of course, as I like to be surprised.

This brings me neatly onto reiterating my point from last week; if your office is unpresentable, then it will put people off, big-time. I don't care if you have the best reputation in the business, if you have paper everywhere in your office, then we will assume that you are too busy to correctly take care of us. If you look sullen, then I will assume you're a pain to work with, rather than a joy as every pundit has claimed. I went to an Indian restaurant the other day for a menu, as my other half's Dad was coming down. The car-park was a stone pit and a mess, there was no menu at the door, and the owner who had just turned up was more interested in his phone than me. I simply turned around and left. Now I don't care if Gordon Ramsay and Oprah come up to me and sings the praises of this place, it left a bad taste in my mouth and I will not go there.

Now, I would like you to repeat last week's exercise and walk around the office, being as constructively critical as possible. Tidy up, lighten up, touch up paint and get a bunch of darn flowers for the reception, as it sets a lovely mood. If you don't do it, then I will notice it, assume that you're as sloppy with your work as you are with your office and go elsewhere.

And that'll be a surprise you don't like.

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