A Muskoka spa. The air is scented with lavender and eucalyptus. The sound of waves lapping a beach and seagulls cawing filters in through hidden speakers. Three Toronto Community Housing Corporation managers sit in a tiled room wearing white terry cloth robes. Their feet are immersed in foot spas.
Linda: Shouldn't someone call the meeting to order or something?
Frank: Seriously?
Ted: Yeah, Frank, weren't you supposed to bring an agenda or something?
[Laughter.]/p>
Frank: My assistant forgot to print it out. I was going to bring my laptop down, but what if it fell in the hot tub?
Ted: Good point.
Linda: Would that, like, kill you?
Frank: I didn't want to find out.
Linda pulls a refrigerated gel pack over her eyes.
Frank: Well there's no way I'm going back to my room to get it now. I'm way too relaxed.
Linda: I am so in the mood for some Enya. [She begins rubbing an elderberry balm onto her forearms.]Sucks about the Christmas party.
Ted [angry] Why go to the trouble of renting out the Montecassino banquet hall and then shave $13,000 off the budget? It doesn't make sense.
Linda: They're getting us gourmet chocolates this year to make up for it.
Ted: Big whoop. [He mists a spray-on body conditioner onto his skin.]/p>
Frank: This agency is going down the crapper.
Ted: The government doesn't understand incentivizing. This is like communist Russia. We're hamsters on a wheel.
[Frank swigs from a bottle of Fiji water.]/p>
Linda: This little hamster is looking forward to her massage.
Frank: Not in the budget.
Linda [shocked] You're kidding.
Frank: Nope. The spa is it.
Linda: Well then, I'm not leaving. I don't care if my feet turn into 20 pound prunes.
Ted: They put special salts in the water to prevent that from happening.
[Frank begins pulling leave-in conditioner through his hair with a comb.]note>///
Linda [appraising her nails] What a terrible manicure. I can't believe I need another one already.
Frank: Remember the staff picnic?
Ted: A joke.
Frank: Four massagers for the entire TCHC staff. [He rolls his shoulders forward, as though working out a kink.]/p>
Ted: What's the point of a 10-minute massage, anyway? It's like only being aloud to listen to 30 seconds of an amazing song.
Frank: It's like the iTunes music store.
Linda: They keep chipping away here and cutting there and eventually this whole agency is going to crumble into dust and then you know who'll get blamed …
Frank: Us.
Linda: Exactly.
Ted: What's for lunch?
Linda [removing the gel pack] Please tell me we're not on the prix fixe.
Frank: No, I was adamant that we order à la carte.
Linda: I could hug you.
Frank: They can't expect us to work on an empty stomach.
Special to The Globe and Mail