Gramsci downed the remains of his margarita and nodded sagely. There were advantages to being an arachnid in summer. Especially one domiciled in an east-facing office.
"At least the Romans built their frigidaria close to their caldaria," the Cow continued. "The Knowledge Factory hasn't been designed quite that considerately. And besides, the frigidaria are all full of freshers this time of year, being tested and taught."
Gramsci shook his head sadly. Females! One minute the Cow was grumbling about broken boilers leaving the jacuzzi tepid, and the next she was grumbling about the inadequate cooling. Though, he admitted grudgingly, there was a whole week and 6 000 miles between the two incidents.
"Perhaps they should stop pretending to fix the recurrent leaks in the Language Lab, and just let it fill up with water," he suggested. "It's well placed for a plunge-pool."
"Hmm..." the Cow mused, "I wonder if Michael Langley's budget stretches to providing laundered towels for the saunas, then? I can imagine Departmental Grants being a constraining factor - and having several colleagues sharing the same towels in their saunas could become a Health and Safety Issue."
Gramsci chuckled. "Who needs towels?" he asked. "We have all thoses unused hand-dryers in the cloakrooms..."