Engineers! Engineers were forever standing behind glass windows looking at you, they did the same thing at radio stations. It was possible to imagine them loving in their glass cubicles, considerations of comfort and sanitation aside. But of course they did not live in them, they lived in houses way the hell outside of town where all the other clean young men lived.
Like this cat, Rheinhardt thought, exchanging looks with the window again, he lives in a house way the hell outside of town. A nice little house, certainly. He’s an engineer. He has this little house, and a little wife who goes to the supermarket in tight pants, and a little kid. And a little car. Every evening, like zoom he tells them goodbye and he drives his little car like a maniac so he won’t be late to stand behind a glass window and watch a room full of stooges futz with soap. The word was very strange, Rheinhardt thought, all sorts of things were working you never ordinarily picked up on. Like engineers. He would have to ask Farley about that some time, Farley always knew what was going on.
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