I've been with my company for nearly nine years. This is the longest job I've ever had. It must mean that I'm officially a hard-working, responsible adult.
Not so much.
As anyone who is familiar with longterm employment knows, the job thing eventually becomes predictable. You figure out your supervisor's nuances and what makes them tick. You learn how to master your tasks, maybe try a few new things, but leaving adequate time to update Facebook, check your horoscope and book your summer travel.
A fellow colleague of mine, GC, has been with the company for 12 years. She's seen much more drama than I have and regularly regales me with stories about the lunatics who used to work here. One person, who felt threatened by his boss, would come to work wearing a Mexican wrestling mask. A temp employee showed up for her first day with a parrot. Another employee, overwhelmed by too much work, walked downstairs to the cafeteria and curled into a fetal position under a table.
I've bonded with GC because our office has gradually evolved from a place inhabited by crazy but amusing characters to a super-corporate, lifeless environment. No more funny chain emails, or passing notes in meetings, or sneaking vodka into the office party. Everyone eats at their desks, makes pie charts and says "strategy" and "brand strategy" whenever possible.
I can't take it. In my 20s I was one of those people, but I've been here a while, am a few pounds heavier and upholding the coporate line is a little bit like dying.
GC is much older than I am and I'm sure people are puzzled about why we pal around. In a nutshell, I would rather go to lunch with her and talk about life than sit with people who are consumed by calories, org charts and Web site visits.
GC and I tease each other incessantly and loudly. I come into the office around 8:30 and she bellows, "About time!" At meetings, I tell people that GC is old and they should talk loudly so she can hear them.
One day, one of the newbies heard us and went to her boss to complain that "Roya and GC fight constantly." GC was called in by her boss who said we should tone it down.
Tone it down so a coordinator who fills in Excel columns can feel comfortable? I think not.
Today we had an agency come in do a demonstration of a social media service. These folks were in their mid 20s, wearing very cool sunglasses and flaunting their "uvpms." About halfway through the meeting, GC came in to deliver a tray of sandwiches. I leaned over to their manager and said GC was a special needs employee but a really good worker. He nodded sympathetically and when she turned to leave the room, he said loudly, "THANK YOU FOR BRINGING US LUNCH! THAT WAS A VERY NICE THING TO DO!"
She gave him a puzzled look and I waved to her. "Okay, GC. THANK YOU. You can go back to your desk and sharpen the pencils."
Maybe one day I'll look back on this and gasp at how immature I was. But for now, messing with people's impressions is the only way to exist in an environment that despite filled with people, is utterly lifeless.
Just because they only come every four years...
11 years ago
