In Boss, dust bin, humor, Interpersonal, Office Romance, work life balance, Working on Weekends on February 22, 2012 at 01:01
With the lights dim and the garb loose, an air of comfort may creep in. But you guard against it. The empty chairs are reminiscent of the theater you visited to catch yet another ‘romantic comedy’ last week. There are very few humans around you. The few in your immediate surroundings seem more inviting than on a Monday. The tapping of keyboards and ringing of phones also seems subdued. But you try to look busy.
You finally relent when you are invited a fourth time to a cuppa. As co-worker small talk ensues, you feel like disappearing. You are; off course, working on a Saturday. Part of a slaving elite. But you don’t want to remind yourself of it. If you work fast enough and push out, you probably won’t even notice the weekend was shorter, right?
You manage to pass an offer of a cancer stick. But that is as far as you want to go in this huddle. The machine-spouted coffee tastes like sweetened Styrofoam. You can’t prolong it any longer. You dump it in the dust bin and excuse yourself.
As you hurry back to your rowing station, you are intercepted by Head Slave himself. You did notice a figure approaching casually but didn’t take it to be HS. Else you would have ducked.
‘There you are sport. Lunch is on me. We are going to that new joint by the curb. 2 pm. Look sharp now!’
It’s like HS has a twin brother who is only let out on Saturdays. The first thing that comes to your mind is: ‘What has he been smoking?’
An invitation to work on weekends is like a being admitted into a secret society. You have read enough pulp function to know such memberships are one-way traffic. It is also clear that not much work gets done on weekends. It is really only a long Friday, like never-ending purgatory. To be on the good side of the weekend mafia is to be one with them. To be on their bad side is to have one shot left at relative freedoms. It is up to you to decide.
In Boss, dust bin, Head Slave, humor, Office humor, SlavesInc on December 15, 2011 at 01:40
Nothing says occasion like confetti. The last time you saw this species of decoration was X’mas. The last time you saw it in office was never. Any hint of out-of-ordinary scheme of things should excite you. But a childhood fear of crowds comes back to you instead.
You sit your grey frame down amidst the conspicuous party supplies. You figure it must be someone’s B’day or deliverance (retirement). After some time, you notice you are the only one working. Distant voices of merriment make you pinch yourself to rule out a day dream. As a slave-cum-reveler passes by, he stops to answer the Q on your face. ‘Haven’t you seen the mail? The Global Head of Continuous Improvement is visiting our office for the very first time!’
Your solar system stopped at Head Slave and Slave-in-Chief. But little did you know about the Global Head of CI. This is just the kind of Greater Evil that is unveiled at the beginning of a forced movie sequel (You thought Dinosaurs were bad? Now they can talk, and fly). The ascending and descending orders in ‘Sort by Date’ always confused you. Closer inspection reveals an unread mail titled ‘Time to Party’. You had almost put it into spam.
What follows over the next few days is nothing short of royal treatment. Red carpets are rolled out. Lights you did not know existed on the office ceiling are turned on. The relieving room is overstocked with tissue and toilet paper. At lunch, nothing but the finest assortment of local seasonal fruits is presented to the Overlord. Though all slaves have survived on plain old tap water all these years, only mineral water will do for Mr. O.
On one of his impromptu get-to-knows with random slaves, you too are part of the crowd. Mr. O bables away puffing on his stick as the drones listen attentively but without much comprehension. You almost shout at a fellow slave who throws a cup of coffe inches from the dustbin. The wayward cup falls just a couple of feet to Mr. O’s left. But what catches your attention instead is even more horrifying. Mr. O just dropped his stick and walked away as randomly as he had appeared. He didn’t even put it out. Having proved yourself a true Underling, you will not be so eager to please next time.
In creativity, disaster area, dust bin, latent talents, paper balls, work stress on September 22, 2011 at 01:12
Creativity is a word that is abused a lot. It is ‘boosted’, ‘enhanced’ and ‘encouraged’ but never given its due. We may be stuck in the wrong job but the mind finds its fodder in the unlikeliest of places.
As a testament to the latent talent of bored employees everywhere, we present:
10 alternate uses for the Office Dustbin-
- As a prop-up for an injured foot in a cast
- As a boost to survey neighboring cubicles
- A make-shift hoop for Basketball
- A make-shift wicket for cricket during breaks
- As an overflowing display for crushed paper balls…indicating you have been hard at work, even borrowing from your neighbor to add to the scene
- To cordon off a disaster area: ‘CUBICLE UNDER SERIOUS WORK STRESS’
- A prop for a vomiting act: ‘Look boss, this is how sick I am feeling! Can I go now?’
- Collect funds for a office party: ‘Drop your donations here, Joe is finally leaving!’
- A make-shift Halloween costume: ‘Look, I am Buckethead!’
- A blunt weapon in case of a cat fight (rare)
- Under-cover ice bucket to keep your Bruskies cold
Ok, so that is 11. It is hard to contain your enthusiasm when it is not ‘work’. I am sure there are other latent talents out there. Tell us what you would do with your office dustbin.