Several times over the past few months, my boss has instructed me to attend meetings on his behalf. One may be tempted to think that he is starting to entrust me with greater responsibility, but this conclusion would only be half right.
You see, the meetings in question have all arisen as a result of some project-related calamity and I’ve been sent as the designated company shit sponge. The thing that clued me in was the fact that I hadn’t actually worked on any of these jobs.
You know that unfortunate idiot that your typical customer service department trots out whenever an irate complainant demands to speak to the manager? Yup, that would be me.
Hand me the antiseptic, please.
Better start carrying hand sanitizer with you to work.
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No need. I have gloves.
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If he hands you a company sports jacket, with a bullseye on the back, and you happen to notice the gentleman wearing the “Kill all whites” t-shirt, then i suspect your suspicions will be completely confirmed…
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B-but they told me it was the new company logo!
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Ooh Kyk, this makes you the ritual goat! (surprise!!). At the risk of sounding religious, but the tribe (Company) is telling it’s misdeeds over your head, and you are then being cast out into the wilderness (driving the streets of Cape Town in your trusty Corolla) as a sacrifice to Azazel (the client).
I am sure the fact that you keep coming back is seriously puzzling the members of the tribe, and possibly you should start keeping some kind of ritualistic cleansing material in your office to use after each incident – yes, antiseptic could do, but why not go with ritualistic burning of “herbs” to the four corners, and sprinkling yourself (inside and out) with “holy water”? Or you could go the whole Book, Bell and Candle route?
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Might as well. My endocrinologist says I need to exorcise more.
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You are perfectly positioned to undermine your boss. Don’t blow it.
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Damn. What do I do with all these explosives now?
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Duh.
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