Office Banter

One of my old bosses was a right fucking tosspot. He was fucking clueless about everything and when the wheel came off, as it often did, he would turn to his number two and utter the words, ' Jim, I'm rocking miffed!'

He was a dead ringer for Mr Bean and whenever he had to discipline employees, his opening gambit was, ' I am very cross with you.' ( Who the fcuk uses the word cross any more ?)

He lived in a tasty gaff in Lymm and drove one of the first Peugeot cars with a diesel engine. He only had a three year contact and we got our revenge at the Xmas do.

For arguments sake let's call the new boss Rowan. Prior to his appointment as head of our department our team leader was a chap called Jim. Jim was a company man through and through having started straight from school. He was a hands on leader who wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty and everything he knew he had gained from the experience of doing the job rather than writing about it. He was well respected and a decent bloke to work for. When Rowan took over the dynamics changed. They were like chalk and cheese. Rowan had some kind of business degree/diploma and was academically very good on paper. Unfortunately he had no personal skills whatsoever and was devoid of humour. He wasn't really a nice person to work for. They say that some people have a presence about them whenever they walk into a room. Somebody like Johnny Cash springs to mind. Rowan was similar, it was like a corpse had entered the office. He never showed Jim any respect and whenever things went wrong he would take it out on Jim. He used to use him as his own personal secretary asking him to phone people up and make appointments on his behalf. Jim didn't like him but he used to put up with it. One day I said to Jim, ' Next time he asks you to phone somebody up for him just say ' Is my finger any different than yours Boss?'

If any junior staff members approached Rowan with a question or a query he would shoo them away and tell them to ask Jim. He was a bean counter and number cruncher with no time for anyone other than himself.

I didn't like the cut of his jib from the day he arrived but I chose to keep my powder dry so that if any shenanigans should occur then the finger of suspicion wouldn't be pointed in my direction. I always deliberately gave him the impression that I was a bit stupid and it worked a treat because he rarely spoke to me. There were about twenty staff working in the office and after he had been there for nearly six months he still didn't know the names of half of the people in the office. They say ignorance is bliss but in his case it was the start of his first faux pas. My desk was at the front near to Rowan and at the desk next to me was a portly chap called Phil. One day while Phil was away from his desk Rowan said to me, ' What is the chubby chap's name next to you?' I replied, ' Bill ' ( It was close enough to Phil and I could always argue that he had misheard me ) From that day Phil became Bill and nobody ever corrected Rowan including Phil himself.

One of our team was called Mike and he was leaving the company. We decided to have a whip round for him. He sat at the very back of the office and I doubt Rowan had ever spoken to him. We decided to buy Mike a pewter tankard as a leaving present and Rowan offered to go and have it engraved. As he was leaving the office he collared me and asked me what he should put on the tankard. I suggested something simple like, ' To Mark, we will never forget you.' He wrote it down on a piece of paper and off he went.

On Mike's last day we gathered in the office and Rowan produced the tankard and presented it to Mike thanking him for his work. Mike looked at the tankard and was finding it difficult to compose himself and keep a straight face. Jim was looking at me with his ' I know what you did ' look.

More later.... I'm off for a haircut.

Modern technology brought new challenges. During Rowan's tenure our company invested in computers in a big way. This was the early nineties and paper records and journals were being phased out. A team of IT people came to our office and we all had brand new IBM computers to work with. A boffin gave us all a talk about how we would all be issued with swipe cards to access the computers and we were to create a unique password for ourselves and were to change it every six months for security purposes. We were also instructed to remove our swipe cards and log off every time we left our workstation. We also had electronic swipe cards to book on and off. Normal working day was eight hours with the norm being nine to five. You could however book on from 7am if you wished to and the hours were quite flexible as long as you completed eight.

One morning I got in early and noticed Rowan's car in his car space. Once in the office I spotted his computer was lit and his swipe card was in position. Instead of logging myself in I had a look round to see if I could find Rowan. He wasn't in the toilet and I discovered the conference room door was shut and the 'in use' sign was displayed. I could overhear some conversation so I went and checked the Conference Suite booking journal and saw that he had arranged a meeting with other senior heads for 7am that day. I returned to the office and altered his password and then left the building and went to McDonald's for breakfast.

I returned at 8am and clocked in, by which time Jim and a few others were already in the office. Shortly after eight Rowan returned to his desk. I could see him tinkering with his keyboard so I ducked my head behind my screen. After a couple of minutes he shouted, ' Jim, I'm rocking miffed. This computer is rubbish. It wont let me in. I've got a very busy day and I'm very cross.'

Jim had a look at his computer but was unable to help him either. Rowan then raised the keyboard over his head with both hands and slammed it down on the desk. That didn't work either.

He then phoned the IT department and they tried to talk him through the procedure for logging in but they also drew a blank. The IT boffin suggested that the swipe card must be faulty and Rowan then had to take his swipe card to their department which was located in an office several miles away. He had to take Jim with him because he had never been there before.


When they returned Rowan had a look on his face which suggested his finger had gone through the toilet paper. Jim got on the phone to HR / Wages to get a printout of clocking in times for the morning.

That night I got the story from Jim. Apparently Rowan had gone in with all guns blazing and had given it big licks to the IT man about how crap the system was. The IT man didn't take kindly to being described as a numbskull so he took Rowan's card and pressed a few buttons. He asked Rowan to type in his password which he did, but again it didn't work. The IT man then did his magic and proudly announced ' The password you gave me is incorrect. The password for this swipe card is MrBean ' Rowan protested his innocence and the IT man reported that the password was changed shortly after 7am that morning. Rowan claimed that was impossible because he was alone in the office at that time. It was then explained to Rowan in layman's terms that the password had to have been changed while the swipe card was in the machine and the only possible explanation was that he must have left his workstation without logging off which was contrary to company policy. Having to eat humble pie, Rowan and Jim drove back to our office. On the way back he told Jim that he was determined to find the culprit and heads would roll. ( None ever did.)

Jim suspected that I was responsible but he knew if he asked me I would simply deny it and the time sheets would confirm my innocence. Secretly I knew he was pissing his sides at Rowan being brought down a peg or two but he had to toe the party line and feign anger to keep up appearances..

That's an excellent prank RT. Every office has a right cnut, and the higher up the ladder they are, the higher the head is up their own rsole!! 
Although I work for myself and contract my labour I have come across some right ball bags. I came across this right knobhead many years ago who had interviewed me and accepted me to work on one of his jobs. He always did his best to engraciate himself with his superiors whilst at the same time treating his underlings like shit. Well nothing lasts forever and he hit on hard times, and the worst thing you can do in the contracting game is upset someone as you usually meet them again. Needless to say he has turned up on the doorstep of a couple of companies I was working at at the time, whilst never getting his feet under the desk. 
I know full well this has happened on more than the occasions I managed to have influence, shit always sticks!!

Stock taking and annual company reviews were another pain in the arse. I always booked my annual leave during this period. Rowan came up with the brainwave idea to write down the names of all the major clients together with their Bank, account details and town, on a large Nobo board in the conference room. Transactions were checked against each company for accounting purposes and it was very time consuming.

On Friday night just as I was leaving to start a weeks leave I added the name of Ole Olsen and a fictitious bank account with the Isle of Man Bank, to the list.

Nobody in the office had a clue about Speedway and I later learned that it took Rowan nearly a full day to establish that the account was bogus. The Isle of Man bank were most unhelpful by all accounts.

Soul Kitchen wrote:That's an excellent prank RT. Every office has a right cnut, and the higher up the ladder they are, the higher the head is up their own rsole!! 
Although I work for myself and contract my labour I have come across some right ball bags. I came across this right knobhead many years ago who had interviewed me and accepted me to work on one of his jobs. He always did his best to engraciate himself with his superiors whilst at the same time treating his underlings like shit. Well nothing lasts forever and he hit on hard times, and the worst thing you can do in the contracting game is upset someone as you usually meet them again. Needless to say he has turned up on the doorstep of a couple of companies I was working at at the time, whilst never getting his feet under the desk. 
I know full well this has happened on more than the occasions I managed to have influence, shit always sticks!!

Karma, SK, Karma.

Our first Xmas party under Rowan's dictatorship was booked at the Grove Park Hotel in Bowdon. A three course meal followed by a disco. Jim's wife was a nurse at Wythenshawe hospital and the venue was that big that the nurses on Jims wifes ward joined us for the knees up.

We all finished work at 3pm and Rowan gave us a quick pep talk about how we should be mindful of our surroundings that evening and not to behave in a way that could reflect badly on the company.   

Most of us arrived early with our wives and had a few drinks in the bar before we sat down to eat. Rowan and his wife were sat with Jim on the top table and when it was time to start the meal he gave a quick speech during which he thanked us with total insincerity for all our hard work and efforts through the year. He then reminded us that we were honoured to share the company of the NHS's finest ladies and once again mentioned that our behaviour should be beyond reproach.

After a starter of soup and rolls, Rowan and his missus started doing the rounds where he introduced his wife to all and sundry. When he got to our table he introduced his wife as Penelope. She was a pretty girl if somewhat stuck up. I politely extended my hand to her and said, ' Pleased to meet you Penny.'  Rowan pulled her back and said in a loud voice so everyone could hear, ' It's Penelope not Penny.'  Before I could apologise he whisked her away to the next table. By the time we had eaten the main course the wine was flowing quite freely. The nurses were a good laugh and everyone was having a good time. Some music started up on the dance floor and one of our employees called John decided to have a bit of fun by picking me up in my chair and carrying me to the dance floor where he performed a little waltz. John was 6ft 2 and weighed sixteen stone. He was into bodybuilding but he was a gentle giant. As soon as he had returned me to our table Jim came over to ask us to cool it because Rowan was not amused and was threatening to leave if we didn't tone things down. His request was like a red rag to a bull because we would have been happy for him to piss off post haste.

After the dessert we decided to have a drinking competition involving red wine. some of the nurses on our table joined in as well. Things were going great until Rowan appeared to inform us that he had never been so embarassed in his entire life by our behaviour. One wife shouted that he needed to get out more and everyone burst out laughing. As he turned to go I lost it doing my best Joel Garner impression, I launched a bread roll which hit him squarely in the back of his suede. He never broke stride at all, he got back to his table and he and Lady Penelope then left, leaving the rest of us to have a good time. Once he had gone, Jim and his wife came to join us and had a really good night. On the way home we stopped at Jim's house for a nightcap. By this time I was the worse for wear and feeling rather queasy I went into his garden where I deposited a sizeable portion of what looked like Russian salad in his privet hedge.

The incident was never mentioned when we got back to work and Rowan never came to any further office parties.

At the end of his tenure the company offered Rowan a full time position and promoted him even higher! The day before he was due to leave Jim mooted the idea of a whip round but a few pence and a couple of buttons is neither here nor there. I told Jim that I would sort out a present for Rowan seeing as how I was partly responsible for all the flak that Jim had received. I told Jim that I would personally get Rowan a really fine bottle of 12 year old Malt whisky.

I had been given a decent bottle of Cardhu 12 year old malt for my birthday and I had nearly polished it off. I still had the box as well. I finished off the rest of the whisky and then I turned my hand to blending. It takes a few goes with cold tea to get the colour just right but I was fortunate to still have a bottle of Famous Grouse which I could use as a guide to get the colour spot on.

The illusion was complete with some ' Sorry your'e leaving ' gaudy wrapping paper. The next day our office said our final goodbyes to Rowan. Jim did the honours by giving him his present and Rowan seemed genuinely moved when he removed the wrapping and saw his wonderful gift. ( I just wish I could have been a fly on the wall when he told Penelope about his present and had his first swig.)

Jim retired a few years before me and every three months or so we meet up together with a few other colleagues since retired. We have a curry and a few pints and talk about the good old days. Rowan has never been on the guest list and never will be.

I have never seen him since I retired and if I never see him again it will be too soon.