the other side of the mountain

There may be fifty ways to leave your lover (and only one way to exit a Kulula.com aircraft), but there are at least a thousand ways to piss me off first thing in the morning. Here is the latest in the series:

Scene: An office. KYKNOORD, seated at a paper-covered desk, is muttering angrily to himself as he attempts to proofread the most incoherent report the entire world.

ANNOYING COLLEAGUE: [Enters stage right and parks his enormous backside on the corner of KYKNOORD’s desk, precipitating a minor avalanche of files] Do you remember that project we did out in Gatlaagte in the ‘nineties?
KYKNOORD: Vaguely. Why?
ANNOYING COLLEAGUE: Ja well, Mr Skaapsteker from the council phoned and there’s a big problem with the rising main in Kleinballes Street. What was the design flow for that pipe?
KYKNOORD: How the fuck do you expect me to remember a detail like that? I mean, seriously?
ANNOYING COLLEAGUE: [Looks puzzled and hurt. Pouts a little. Splutters impotently for a few seconds]: B-b-but I thought…

And thus begins a lengthy and frustrating conversation which essentially hinges on the fact that my colleague can’t quite fathom why I don’t have total recall of events that took place when people under twenty still bought Madonna CDs.

Obviously my reputation as the organic answer to Google is spreading.

I recently had to attend another work function. I’ve never quite been able to get to the bottom of why we have these tedious things, but I’m beginning to develop a theory that they form part of the staff appraisal process – as a test of employee loyalty.

Attendance is technically voluntary, but unless you have a spectacularly good excuse for not for not being there+, you are expected to show up. Honest reasons for staying away (“Frankly, I’d rather beat myself bloody with a tire iron…”) are met with stony-faced disapproval from members of management and should be avoided at all costs. Unless, of course, you already earn pots of money and couldn’t be bothered with trivialities like salary increases.

Surly waiters; indifferent food; speeches that run to seven pages and beyond – these are all cunningly integrated to ensure maximum psychological impact. The heavy-calibre guns usually emerge later on in the evening, when senior staff get hammered and suddenly start exhibiting that slightly creepy, I’m-your-best-friend-in-the-whole-world behaviour.

My date bore all of the above with far better humour than I’ll ever be able to muster. I owe her big time and she knows it.

+ Such as brain-removal surgery – although that would mean you’d have absolutely no reason to miss any subsequent work functions