On Friday, my company sent me on yet another course. I’m not entirely sure why, but it’s possible that they are simply trying to get me out of the office where I can do the least amount of harm. On the other hand, it is also possible that my work is so appallingly bad that anything that manages to stick to the inside of my skull will result in an improvement, irrespective of the type of training I receive.
I am always suspicious of ‘training courses’ that are presented by manufacturers or consultants that provide a product or service related to the training topic. They invariably end up being an extended advertisement for the company in question. Friday’s course proved to be another of these ‘Why You Desperately Need Us To Pay Us To Tell You What To Do’ sales pitches. They could have saved everyone a lot of time and effort if they had mailed us their company brochure and let us decide at our own leisure just how much we really need them. The cherry on the cake was that my company had actually paid for me to attend this painfully blatant hard-sell session.
It would have been less annoying if the material had been at least vaguely interesting and the presenter hadn’t been such an irksome individual. This guy would be absolutely perfect for the role of ‘Fat Bastard’s Brother’ in the next Austin Powers movie. Nothing short of a tactical nuclear strike could shift the self-satisfied, arrogant smirk he had permanently plastered on his hideous face. He answered most of our questions with sneered variations on the theme of “Because I say so – so just sit down and shut up!” and his stock response to any queries related to legal issues was “It’s the Law!”
So was the policy of Apartheid, shithead. That doesn’t mean it was correct.