Banana flavoured Quik

So you arrive at our single fronted cottage on Sturt Street…

Single fronted cottage, you think…  Are these guys really cutting edge developers?

Oooh… and looks dark!

And, what’s this… a locked front door with a hand-written note taped to it. It reads, “Please knock for entry, the doorbell is broken”

Am I in the right place...? Oh yeah… there’s another sign on the door, the size of silicon chip, which reads DYNAMIC METHODS.

That’s surely a joke.

So you knock on the door (and we open it).

You take a few steps inside, and here it is – your wow moment… It’s like walking into a Tardis – you even feel like you’ve time-travelled from 1890 to 2015.

You look up – this place has a mezzanine!  A corrugated iron roof arches over the double storey-space which is filled with light. You want to go outside and have another look at this unassuming (possibly quaint) turn-of-the-century stone cottage… just to make sure you’ve entered the same building.

But our enthusiastic welcome doesn’t give you the opportunity. Instead, you are taken upstairs… ascending into the light and the smell of… toast?

“This is cool,” you say… We assume you are referring to the open-plan layout and not the air-conditioning. There’s a desk overlooking the void – a place to meet perhaps. It’s opposite a kitchen… Ah, the toast.

We don’t offer you toast, just tea, coffee or water… but you realise, if you worked here, that you could bring Banana flavoured Quik and no-one would mind.

You take in the surroundings – Sturt Street is visible from up here… and, yes, directly below, the roof of the cottage is still intact. You have a glass of water while you listen to us talk about how innovative and fun we are (and we are), and you’re already imagining what it would be like to work here, but… where is everyone?

The answer is soon revealed as you cross back over the void to the meeting desk…Ahh… now that you are looking properly, there is more space behind the desk, obscured by a feature wall of wine, books, and a… Commodore 64?

You walk into the developers’ space, where you might be working if all goes well…
They’re all the in the same room, and the room is… light. It’s like one of those offices your see in films, where you think… if work was like that, I wouldn’t mind going to work. You’re working through this in your head, trying to imagine it, when we introduce you to the other guys (a generic term for staff-members of either sex).

They seem nice… definitely relaxed, and genuinely welcoming… they could be your new work family.

“So where are the bean bags and pinball machines?” you joke. We are too polite and caring not to laugh and make you feel at ease.

Then we tell you we have a life outside the office… Nice as it is, we have other places we enjoy, family and friends that like being with us, and other interests away from work.  

You nod and smile – you can relate to that. You begin to picture yourself working for Dynamic Methods.

Your tour comes to an end. We escort you to the front door. We tell you we like you because you seem enthusiastic and like the idea of working with us. You feel valued, and you don’t want to spoil the moment by suggesting we fix the door bell and get a new sign.

You leave. We shut the door.

(Oh… just in case you were wondering… we don’t have any bean bags or pinball machines).