Commercial Property Company No.1
I had some fun times during my two years there. One time, the computer system kept crashing and freezing everything on screen – usually at the worst possible moment, and usually when you’d forgotten to ‘save’. One of the associates, who used to do a lot of his own typing, had spent almost an hour composing a long letter – then the system froze. Frantic, he grabbed one of the digital cameras and took a photo of it on screen before the system went down completely (ingenious!).
Another time, one of the graduates was given the title of Superuser for a new piece of software. I arranged a whip-round and we ordered a Superman costume off the internet. It was then formally presented to him and he, game that he was, put the suit on and wore it for the rest of the day. It was in big demand for fancy dress parties, and became known as the Office Outfit (later changed to The Smelly Revolting Tattered Office Outfit).
My boss had an accident which dislocated his arm (he fell down a flight of stairs after an office 'do', but he wasn't drunk, oh no, he absolutely wasn't drunk). He had physiotherapy to aid recovery. He used to do his exercises in the office without warning, so one minute he’d be sitting there normally, the next minute he’d thrust his arm out to his side and raise it several times. Most alarming. Especially if you happened to be walking past when the arm was thrust out. After a while he stopped doing this, and started doing one arm press ups against walls, any wall - you’d turn a corner and there he’d be, pressing against a wall.
The receptionist we had there was nice, but a bit batty. She used to wear headphones, sometimes forgetting they were there and going home with them still on her head. We’d walk into reception and she’d be sitting there, apparently talking to herself (the microphone was small). She also had a bit of a 'power' thing going on and was terribly mean with the stationery she kept in a locked cupboard behind her chair. Some secretaries actually bought their own stationery rather than ask her for it. If you went out and asked for, say, a pen, she’d give you the one she was using and say, “There, that still has some ink left in it?” Staples were handed out by the strip, and there’d be a serious interrogation if you asked for anything ‘big’, like a ruler (“What happened to the last one I gave you?” “Ed ate it.”). Once, a group of us went out after work, but one of the secretaries discovered she’d left her mobile phone in the office. A surveyor took us back and let us into the locked and dark building. We were somewhat intoxicated, and hit upon a cunning plan. We knew where the receptionist kept the key to the stationery cupboard, and we opened it up. It was like Aladdin’s cave. “Let’s take everything out and scatter it all over her reception desk,” I yelled, drunkenly. We didn’t. Instead, we took at least three months supply of pens, post it notes and staples, and hoarded them in our desks. We also took several highlighter pens, which were almost sacred, and the next day we all received an email reading, “Could whoever took the highlighter pens from my stationery cupboard, please return them immediately.” We didn’t. It became known as the Midnight Raid.
Then one of my sons progressed to university, and I needed a slightly bigger salary. I asked for an extra pay rise (which I thought was more than reasonable) and waited. Two months later when the pay rises were announced, I discovered I didn't get the raise I'd asked for. I was very disappointed (in fact, I cried my eyes out). Panic stricken about finances, I found another job offering a much bigger salary, accepted it, and handed in my notice. It was one of the worst decisions I’d ever made.
I don’t recommend working notices if you can possibly help it – plead insanity or even fake your own death if you have to. I found it incredibly stressful. My boss interviewed potential replacements for me in the ‘glass office’ right in front of my desk, and then rang the agencies from his phone, inches from me, to tell them how wonderful the applicant was (all of them!). I felt it was incredibly insensitive of him. To add insult to injury, he then asked me to train up the new secretary. I initially said no because I hadn't been trained up when I started and the job was straightforward enough, but he kept asking and eventually, wimp that I am, I relented.
The new secretary was lovely, looked about 12 but I only had to tell her how to do something once and she caught on fast. After a couple of hours on her first day, I told her I was just nipping to the basement for a cigarette, and she said, “Oh, can I come?” She was a smoker too, which annoyed my boss no end as he’d always ‘whinged’ about me going for a cigarette – the look of astonishment on his face as we both trooped off to ‘indulge’ is something that will happily stay with me until the end of time.
I had two leaving do's to accommodate the people who couldn't attend the first one (sly, eh?). On my last day, I was presented with the most amazing gifts, including a huge bouquet of flowers and a hug from my boss, and I cried almost continously.
I forever regretted leaving that job, I missed the other girls and all the people there so much (not realising, at the time, how unique it was for them all to get on so well). I still regularly see them for lunch.
Incidentally, the company actually paid more to the agency for supplying the new secretary than it would have cost to give me my pay rise.
Daily Drudgery of Commuting Interviews Other Stuff Big Blue Monster
The Great Divorce Fiasco Motorbiking Quick Reads Longer Reads The Bestest Sites
I Love Birmingham Brummie Bloggs EMAIL Great One Liners