Ticket to ride, white line highway

In another life, a long, long time ago; I did a University Placement with an Engineer.  

He had long since moved on from being an engineer and now he was in charge of Productivity and Utilisation.

My task during the 9 months I worked with him, apart from fend of rampant factory floor workmen,  was to collate information about time spent, units products, and manhours. 

I would set out on a Monday Morning, clip board in hand and collect the data sheets from around the different factory shops.  There were 8 in the " palace", and about 8 in different shops situated in hangers around the site.   Some places I would kick off my shoes before I walked in  - the sound of click clack of heels was just too much for the manforce to cope with. 

It mattered not a jot what you looked like. If you had tits you were fair game.

I would arrive back at the office, flushed, disheveled and stunned.  The Engineer would look at me and say "No problems eh, get on with it". 

And I would collate the numbers, and then file the reports. 

And then, he would take my folders and examine the edges to make sure that I had filed everything within a millimetre.

Straight lines are everything, doncha know.   

This folder wouldn't have made the grade.  But, it's my folder now and I choose to make wavy edges :-)