mydaysasawageslave.com

...so I had taken to playing Marketing Bingo in an attempt to seem more interested in what my fellow employees had to say during meetings.

I had just been told at my latest quarterly review that I'm "...either really good at handling the stress of the job or that I don't give a fuck!" 

My supervisor, Kelvin, couldn't decide which and so opting on the side of caution decided not to give me a raise and told me that I "should be seen to be more emotive and bothered by what you're doing at work. I want to come back in here in 3 months time and to have seen that you care about the company. Talk more about work. Be involved."

He was right though.

I didn't give a fuck.

But in the interests of getting a raise and trying to be more like everyone else I work with, I decided that from now on I was going to look more interested in my job.

I was going to be happy.

New Attitude - Day 1:
I was straight in at the deep end.

It was a team meeting this morning. But first, I had to endure a conversation about rugby between a couple of the marketing yaya's whilst waiting on the kettle to boil, without resorting to sarcasm, bitterness or goading.

It seems that everyone in the white collar world of new ireland Inc. has to like rugby nowadays. Call me old school but I've just never lived on a road where kids played rugby.

Soccer, football, swimming, tennis, boxing, running... whatever. But rugby always seemed something the posh kids in the boarding schools did.

That and lots of horseplay in the communal showers. Towel slapping, bullying and buggery. That sort of thing.

Anyway, by the time a couple of female yaya's had eagerly joined in the conversation, I was choking on my new found work smile. I had to get out of the kitchen.

Thankfully Igor, the finance guy and Number 1's henchman, came in and scowled at us all. He didn't like to see people gathering in groups. I think he thought it made the place look untidy.

Still, I never thought I'd be glad to go to a team meeting but it gave me the chance to escape the clutches of the rugby yaya's.

The meeting got off to a blinding start.

Marketing Bingo, is a game I heard about on the web. Usually played by bored wageslaves who have to listen to loads of shite being talked, whilst nodding and smiling like a baboon. That pretty much summed up my workday, every day.

Every time a cliche or lie is uttered, you tick off your bingo card.

Outside the box. Check.

Innovative ideas. Check.

Strategy led. Check.

ABC1. Check.

Laugh at the bosses joke. Check.

2 minutes in and I was halfway through my card.

I was looking very pleased with myself and for once, I was waiting attentively on every word being bounced around the room. If I could keep this facade up for another couple of months, who knows where I could be? A raise. A promotion even. Yeah, I was pretty sure now I had this work thing sorted. My grin was getting bigger by the second. Every time a new cliche was spewed out, my ticks became more elaborate and the funny thing was that THEY probably presumed that I was taking notes, thus looking even more conscientious!

HA! The wankers! What did they know!

I can't have been lost to my madness for more than a couple of minutes when I noticed the wageslave next to me, looking over with a mixture of worry and fear.

I followed her eyes down to the bingo sheet in my open desk diary.

The fear hit me with a gulp as I realised that I had been scribbling 'wanker' repeatedly all over the sheet. It had started about halfway through the bingo session, scribbled in place of a tick, then just carried on off the page. Everywhere.
Nothing but 'wankers' scrawled over every bit of white space.

I didn't want to look up in case anyone else had noticed so I just sat there, frozen in an embarrassed silence. If I cover up the sheet I'd only be drawing attention to it so I figured fuck it, leave it open and hope for the best?

The sales wageslaves droned on, followed by the accounts wageslaves.

...and then we were finally given permission to leave the table.

I bolted for the door, before being nabbed by the boss, Number 1.

"You all right there?" he enquired.

I didn't know what he was referring to so I just grinned non commitedly.

"I just noticed you looked a bit on edge there in the meeting. Everything alright?"

"er, yeah. fine." I shrugged.

"A job getting to you huh?"

"Yea, something like that." I nodded sagely.

"That's what I like to see in my employees. Work related stress. If you're working too hard you must be making me lots of money.

Keep up the good work."

...and of he went. Smiling to himself. My boss. Number 1.

Wanker.