Meeting-Room Naming Conventions
Today, I attended a meeting at a flash new business hub on an expansive campus near a motorway interchange. There are a couple of large cornerstone tenants: a telco, an insurer, and lots of little businesses servicing the working populations of the tenants whose own staff then expand the working population. So, there are gyms and eateries and bars. And, there are communal spaces in the latest fashion and function.
I’ve been to many meeting rooms in organisations and locations far and wide. Many are numbered. Room 1. Or maybe 301 if they have rooms on multiple floors. Some seize the opportunity to emblazon some Te Reo on the doors. That’s cool. Some are trees. Some are trees in Te Reo. Some are whatever you can see out the window. (I’m looking at you Rangitoto).
Today, they were named after music festivals. Cool. Although, in an afront to my age, I only recognised half the names. Although, to be fair, my personality is such that even if I was 25 today, I still might only recognise half the names. (Or, maybe, I was so out of my mind on drugs, it affected my memory and I cannot recall such specifics of my many trips to so many music festivals). (Spoiler alert: It’s the age thing…)
The best / worst example of meeting-room naming conventions was the company I won’t name (irony intended) who decided, in the spirit of altruism and inclusiveness, to name their meeting rooms after employees of the month. Huzzah. And it was so well received… for the first three months. By which time, people got confused and angry because the meeting room names kept changing as the employees of the month kept changing. I silently delighted in one exchange between one chap and a receptionist:
“I can’t find the meeting room I’m due at.”
“Which room is it”?
“The Harrison room”.
“And your name is”?
“3rd floor, you’re late. And, it’s now the Dunstan room”.
I probably lean more socialist than you may imagine I do but this is where even I draw the line.